


It Takes Two

by lolamit



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: (except his friends and connor obv), (honestly strangers to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers again), (mainly because i'm shit at tagging), Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kevin hates everything, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Tags May Change, Uganda didn't happen, not canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22406293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolamit/pseuds/lolamit
Summary: Kevin Price hated New York City. It was loud, crowded, and quite frankly overrated, had you asked him. The city that never sleeps would have seemed like the perfect match to the Mormon who never sleeps, but somewhere along the restless nights of drunken laughter and police sirens pouring through his bedroom window, Kevin’s sleep deprivation started to feel less like a perfect fit and more like sadistic irony.That is until one day. A day like any other, when Kevin was getting his morning coffee at the nearest coffee shop that wasn’t Starbucks – God, he hated Starbucks – everything changed.
Relationships: Arnold Cunningham/Nabulungi Hatimbi, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Original Male Character(s), Kevin Price/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70





	1. To-Go, or not To-Go

Kevin Price hated New York City. It was loud, crowded, and quite frankly overrated, had you asked him. The city that never sleeps would have seemed like the perfect match to the Mormon who never sleeps, but somewhere along the restless nights of drunken laughter and police sirens pouring through his bedroom window, Kevin’s sleep deprivation started to feel less like a perfect fit and more like sadistic irony.  
That is until one day. A day like any other, when Kevin was getting his morning coffee at the nearest coffee shop that wasn’t Starbucks – God, he hated Starbucks – everything changed. 

It hadn’t been love at first sight, because Kevin knew, despite his undying love for Disney mentality, that there was no such thing. Though, he wouldn’t go beyond saying it was lust at first sight. Something about the clear blue eyes that wandered all over Kevin’s face was… unsettling, but in a way that made Kevin look twice. He nearly forgot what he came in there to do, and it wasn’t until the man behind the counter asked if he could take his order that he regained his composure. 

“Just a black coffee,” Kevin averted his gaze and pretended to eye the baked goods on display as the barista grabbed a porcelain mug from the shelf behind him. “To go,” Kevin quickly added, mumbling a barely audible _sorry_ , as the man reached for a take-away cup instead.

“That’ll be $4.20,” the barista smiled. 

Kevin scoffed involuntarily. _Four dollars for a black coffee_ , he thought to himself. He wanted to laugh at the absurdly high price for a _fucking black coffee_ , but as the barista’s expression tightened and he could tell the man struggled not to roll his eyes at him, he paid up and left the shop with a quiet _thank you_. 

As he’d turned around, though, he noticed an ever so slight twitch in the barista’s lips that he wasn’t certain how to interpret. A smile? A sneer? A relief that the rude customer who’d scoffed right in his face had left? God only knew, but Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling of – well, something. 

\--- 

Kevin Price hated his job. The dull routine he knew by heart and the fact he could now do it purely by muscle memory. Wall Street sounded like a sensible goal; he just hadn’t realized it was going to take years of shitty jobs with shitty pay to get anywhere remotely close to it. Hell, he’d be happy working _anywhere_ on the street if it meant he could tell his parents that he technically worked on Wall Street. Not that that would shut them up, surely they would still pester him about values he had long forgotten. Kevin didn’t mind, though. No matter how far apart he had grown from his family, he did not hate them.  
And that’s saying a lot, because Kevin hated most things. 

His desk was old and stained with coffee – at least he hoped it was coffee – but other than that it was organized to the very last detail. Every pen, post-it, and paper clip had its own place. Kevin had even started organizing the crumbs from his poor excuse of a lunch when he’d finished three minutes before his break was over. Kevin liked order.

“You finished with the Mueller case?” his colleague popped his head over the cubicle wall separating them, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Any second, Arnold,” Kevin replied with a quick smile of his own, “I’ll get them to you as soon as possible.”

Arnold gave him a thumbs up and disappeared to his side of the wall again. Kevin liked Arnold. He was a kind, generous, happy go lucky type of guy who never saw anything but goodness in people. When Kevin first started five months ago, Arnold had been the first to treat him like an equal and not the new guy who couldn’t even work the printer, which Kevin had been extremely grateful for, and he tried his best to show this in the only ways he knew how. He’d get him a coffee or offer to pay for his lunch when they would go to the place next door together, or he’d gently chuckle at Arnold’s jokes in the break room when no one else seemed amused. Little things, that Kevin hoped amounted to a big impact. 

“Did you see the latest Doctor Who season?” Kevin jumped at the sound of Arnold’s voice, now coming from behind him. 

He spun around in his chair and offered his colleague a small shake of his head. “I haven’t even seen the first season, buddy.” 

“Oh man, I forget you’re so boring when it comes to TV,” Arnold laughed. “You should watch it sometime! The new Doctor is a girl!”

When Kevin only shot him a puzzled look he added, “the Doctors have always been male before, this is like _super progressive_.” 

“I guess,” Kevin shrugged, holding no actual opinion on the matter as he hadn’t the tiniest clue why that should interest him. “I’ll put it on my list.” 

Arnold nodded slowly, probably fully aware that the contents of this so-called list were never going to be crossed out. Kevin liked making lists; it was fulfilling the tasks he struggled with. 

After a drawn out _right_ , Arnold excused himself to the bathroom and when he returned Kevin handed him the Mueller case. Arnold offered a quick _thank you_ and an exaggerated bow that made Kevin look around to see if anyone had noticed, before scurrying off to his side of the cubicle. 

Kevin returned his attention to the next case on his to-do list and quickly fell into the same old routine as his mind drifted to a completely different place.  
Suddenly, he was back at the coffee shop from this morning, trying to string the bits and pieces he remembered from the barista’s appearance together. _Blue eyes_ , was all he could focus on. _Blue eyes and freckles_. 

“Looks great, buddy!” the sound of Arnold’s voice jerked him back to reality. “I’ll head straight to the man upstairs.” 

Kevin winced at the choice of words, reminding him of the life he led back with his family in Utah. He wouldn’t say he didn’t believe in anything, the scriptures etched so deeply into his brain made that almost impossible. Part of him was still clinging to the last string of hope that there was, indeed, a God. Part of him wanted to flip off anyone who practiced any religion at all. After leaving any and every last piece of the Book of Mormon behind him, he saw no real reason to believe there was a greater power dictating his life. Yet, he couldn’t help but fall into his old mentality every now and again. Old habits truly were a bitch to kill.

\--- 

Saturdays were good days, Kevin had decided, because there was nothing better than trying to sleep in only to fail miserably since the sun always hit his face in just the right way for him to go insane. The blinds that used to let Kevin get at least an hour extra sleep had somehow fallen down, and Kevin had put fixing it on his list of household chores. Another list that rarely saw any real action.

He sat up with a groan, glancing over at his watch on the nightstand. Eight-thirty, that’s far longer than he could sleep on weekdays, so he felt complaining was pointless. A text from Arnold caught his attention as he reached over to take a sip of water. Kevin tried to keep his personal life separate from his work life, mainly because he hated having to think about work on his days off, but Arnold never seemed to have a problem intertwining the two. 

_Hey bud!! Was gonna head out to lunch with Naba and her friend Sam around noon, you wanna come with??_

Kevin sighed, mulling over whether a simple _not today_ would seem rude. Arnold was one of the few people Kevin actually liked spending time with, even if he was a constant reminder that another Monday was just around the corner. And Naba was every bit as kind as Arnold which Kevin admired them both for, although she sometimes appeared more abrasive than her boyfriend. Kevin had grown to understand that it usually came from a good place, whether she would call Kevin out for being too pessimistic or standing up for herself when met with racist or sexist remarks. She had quickly become a good acquaintance to Kevin.

What worried him about this lunch, however, was Sam. Who the hell was Sam? Kevin couldn’t remember Arnold mentioning a Sam ever before, and now suddenly they were having lunches together. He suspected Arnold and Naba might have planned this, as they both insist that Kevin start dating again. Kevin hated dating. 

Still he found himself texting back, _Sure. Time, place and reason why you’re bringing a Sam?_

 _1pm, Juliana’s and only way to find out is by joining us_ , Arnold’s reply read, followed by a series of emojis Kevin didn’t even bother to look at. 

He sent a thumbs-up back, putting his phone back on the nightstand and sank back down under the covers. Maybe Sam was nice, Kevin tried to convince himself. Maybe he was even attractive. 

\--- 

Kevin arrived at the restaurant a quarter to one and stepped inside to check if the others were already there. Apparently, he was the first to arrive and a waiter led him to their table, placing an unnecessarily big menu in front of him. It was only then he realized the table was only set for two. He considered asking the waiter if she’d put him at the wrong table but decided not to bother her and hoped they would bring out the rest as the others arrived. 

As the minutes ticked by, Kevin grew more and more uncomfortable. It was now five past one and neither Arnold and Naba, nor this Sam had shown up yet. He sent a quick text to Arnold asking where they were, and just as his phone buzzed with a response, Kevin was startled by someone saying his name. 

“Kevin?” his head flew up so fast he thought he’d might break it.

The woman in front of him had dark brown hair and round glasses that reminded Kevin of his fifth grade English teacher. She was quite short, and the nervous smile on her lips made Kevin feel sort of sorry for her. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s me, hi,” the words felt heavy as they fell out of his mouth. “Nice to meet you. Sam, I suppose?”

The woman nodded slightly and took her seat opposite Kevin. He glanced over to the entrance, hoping to spot Arnold and Naba to break the awkward silence that fell between them. Kevin knew he should say something, but he was still annoyed about the fact he hadn’t even realized that Sam could’ve been a girl. Saying he wasn’t disappointed would be a lie, yet saying he wasn’t relieved that Arnold still seemed oblivious to Kevin being gay would too. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to hide his sexuality, he just didn’t want to explain himself to anyone. The fact that he would have to sit his friends down and tell them he was attracted to men while they wouldn’t have to do the same for being attracted to the opposite sex felt redundant to him. Not that his sexuality was anyone’s business, but should someone ask, he wouldn’t lie. 

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was unbearable,” Sam’s voice forced him back to reality. “Have you ordered yet?”

Kevin shook his head in response. “No, I was waiting for you guys.”

Sam looked confused for a second and examined Kevin’s face for what felt like an eternity. “Is someone else coming?” she asked, shifting awkwardly in her seat. 

“Arnold told me he and Naba would be here,” he frowned, checking the text he had received when Sam arrived and sure enough. _Sooo don’t be mad, but we thought you’d like her!! It’s a date!_ Kevin sighed, a little too loudly he realized when Sam cleared her throat.

“God, sorry, this must be so weird,” she let out a nervous laugh. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“No, no, it’s alright,” Kevin offered a smile as fake as his parents’ wedding vows that he hoped she wouldn’t pick up on. “It was a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one. So, you work with Naba? Are you a nurse, too?”

“Radiologist,” she said meekly, and Kevin felt stupid for assuming. 

\--- 

Kevin got home around four, the lunch had taken longer than he’d expected, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Sam was very nice. She was smart, gentle, and funnier than Kevin would have given her credit for, had he not given her a chance. Yet, he felt bad, because Sam clearly knew this was a date and Kevin hadn’t told her she’d have a better shot if she were male. He sunk down on his couch, rubbing his temple in an attempt to forget he’d agreed to text her. What was he going to say? _Hey, had fun at lunch but I’m gay, let’s be friends?_ That’d go over smoothly. 

His attention was soon caught by his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he sighed as he read the text from Arnold.

_Hey how’d it go?? Naba said Sam had a good time, you gonna see her again?_

_Had fun, but I don’t think so. Not really looking for anything right now. Would have appreciated a heads up by the way._

He flung his phone to the other side of the couch, ignoring the four – no, five – buzzes that followed, as he stood up and walked back outside. He was suddenly in the mood for coffee.  
\--- 

“Just a black coffee.” 

The blue-eyed barista eyed him for a second before a brief smile appeared on his lips. He turned around to grab a to-go cup, and Kevin quickly added, “To eat here – or, drink, I guess.”

His apologetic shrug was met by a challenging eyebrow raise, and Kevin could have sworn he heard the man mutter something under his breath as he reached for one of the porcelain mugs instead. 

“That’ll be $3.80,” he said once he’d finished the order. 

“Wasn’t it $4.20 yesterday?” Kevin heard himself say before thinking. 

“If you’d like to pay $4.20, I won’t stop you,” the man smirked, and when Kevin didn’t respond he added, “take away costs extra,” with a shrug.

“Isn’t it usually the other way around?”

“Look, if you think I make the rules, do you really think I’d be stuck behind this counter?”

“I thought maybe you just loved your job.”

“I do,” the man smirked again, “just not this job.”

Kevin furrowed his brow in thought while still staring at the barista in front of him. What did that mean? Did he have another job, or did he love aspects of this one, just not cashier duty?

“I do actually need those four dollars though,” Kevin’s thoughts were interrupted.

“I thought it was $3.80,” Kevin countered and the playful look he got back made his cheeks heat up. 

“What, no tip?” the man faked a pout, “and here I’ve been flirting to no avail.”

Kevin smiled at that, worried he looked way too eager than he wanted to let on. He dug five dollars out of his wallet and handed it over to the barista with a flirtatious _get yourself something nice_. The man sneered back, adding a _how generous_ as Kevin turned away. 

He took a seat by the window, making sure to stay in view of the counter, glancing over ever so discreetly only to notice the blue-eyed barista doing the same. Kevin hated dating, but he wouldn’t turn down some harmless flirting every now and then. He wasn’t a stranger to the whole concept, though needless to say he wasn’t completely comfortable with it either. Usually, he’d get way too flustered and accidentally say something stupid that sent the other running, so he was surprised their exchange had gone as well as it did. 

\--- 

Arnold was waiting by Kevin’s desk when he arrived at work Monday morning, visibly bouncing out of eagerness. Once he spotted Kevin across the room, he made a beeline for him and Kevin prepared himself for his enthusiastic squeals.

“Hey, buddy!” Arnold wrapped his arms around him, catching Kevin off-guard, and he gave him a quick pat on the back as he glanced around the room hoping no one paid too much attention to them. “Tell me everything.”

Kevin almost blushed at first, thinking back to his Saturday evening, spent alone in a coffee shop shooting glances at the cute barista as if they were in third grade. He quickly realized Arnold didn’t know about that, though, and reckoned he was talking about his date with Sam. 

“It was fun,” he gave his best attempt at a genuine smile. “She seems nice.”

“Fun? Nice? I want to know everything, Kev! Did you talk? Did you kiss? Did you fall in _love_?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the last question, nudging Kevin gently in the side. 

“Yes, no, and definitely no,” he answered the questions honestly, and after seeing Arnold’s slightly disappointed look, he added, “I did get her number, though.”

Arnold beamed, “I knew you’d like her!”

Kevin chewed on the insides of his cheeks, should he tell him? Not now. Surely, their workplace wasn’t the place for that kind of conversation. He couldn’t help but feel bad, though. Arnold only wanted the best for Kevin. Arnold wanted the best for everyone, but it seemed Kevin was always his top priority, which Kevin for one could not fully comprehend. 

They got back to their cubicles just as their shifts started, and Kevin was relieved to fall back into the mindless routine that was his job. Hands working away while his brain took a four-hour nap. 

\--- 

“Ready for lunch?” Arnold was stood behind him as the clock struck twelve and their one-hour break began. He made sure to save the spreadsheet he was currently working on an extra time, just to be sure, before giving Arnold a quick nod, and then the two were off. 

Kevin turned left when they exited the building, a reflex he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. But Arnold grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him gently in the other direction. An excited grin on his face. Kevin sent him a suspicious look, but obliged, nevertheless. This was Arnold, he thought, he probably just wanted to stop by a comic book store first. 

So, when Arnold stopped outside the coffee shop Kevin had visited just two days ago, he stiffened. 

“Okay, so, _super_ coincidence –“ _Clearly._ “- Naba and Sam happened to be free and asked us to join them here.”

Kevin glanced inside and sure enough, chatting away at a table window was Arnold’s girlfriend and Kevin’s date. He scowled at Arnold, who only shrugged sheepishly in return. 

“What happened to giving me a heads up?” Kevin asked, annoyance dripping of his voice. 

“I knew you’d say no if I told you! Naba said you haven’t texted Sam yet, and well, you being you, I thought you could use a nudge,” Kevin couldn’t be mad at his friend, Arnold was only trying to help. It wasn’t his fault Kevin had deliberately omitted certain parts of the truth. 

“Fine,” he sighed, trying to feign positivity. “Let’s just go inside.”

They joined Naba and Sam at the table, and Sam gave him a quick smile as he greeted her. He shot a smile back, hoping he wasn’t leading her on too much. 

“Are you not gonna order?” Naba asked the two of them after they’d chatted for a short minute. “You only have forty-five minutes left of your break, right?”

Kevin glanced over at the counter, noticing there was no one stood behind it. A wave of relief washed over him as he headed over with Arnold in tow. How would he explain the situation if a certain blue-eyed barista had been working?

Arnold rung the counter bell twice – which, had you asked Kevin, was two times too much – before an employee popped out of the backroom. 

“Sorry about the wait, what can I get you?” Kevin closed his eyes when he recognized both the voice and the face moving toward them. When he opened them back up, the barista was writing down Arnold’s order while glancing at Kevin. 

“Should I get dessert right away or after,” Arnold pondered, while neither Kevin nor the man staring back at him – way less discreetly now – paid him any attention. “Kevin, what do you think?”

Kevin quickly came back to his senses and noticed a twitch in the barista’s lips as he turned to face Arnold. “Sorry, I uh, wasn’t listening.” 

“I’ll just get a Danish straight away,” Arnold smiled as he paid for his order.

The barista started on Arnold’s coffee order and told him the sandwich he’d ordered was going to be a few minutes. “I’ll bring it out when it’s done,” he smiled.

“Great! We’re at the table right over there,” he pointed over to Naba and Sam, “the one with the pretty girls,” he nudged Kevin with his elbow and Kevin forced a tight smile. 

“Ah, double date?” the barista asked, and before Kevin could deny, Arnold had offered a proud _yep_ and then picked up his tray and headed back. 

Kevin hadn’t moved his eyes from the man in front of him, and he’d noticed the ever so slight shift from the teasing eyes to the practiced smile that was now bedecking his face. 

“Can I take your ord-“

“It’s not a date,” Kevin blurted out, interrupting the man who raised an eyebrow in response. “I mean, it looks that way but I’m not- we’re not- you know.” _Smooth, Kevin. Real smooth._

“Hey, no worries,” he put his hands up. “I’m not here to judge.” 

Kevin sighed then, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, as he gave his order. This time the barista grabbed one of the porcelain mugs and Kevin held back a playful _to-go_ , when he realized he probably shouldn’t be openly flirting in front of his supposed date. He watched the man pour his coffee and place it on the tray between them, as he gave the same comment about bringing the food out once it’s ready as he had given Arnold. Kevin nodded and paid, not sure whether to keep talking or stay silent. When the man handed him his receipt, he figured the moment had passed and he turned to walk over to his friends but stopped himself before taking a step.

“I’m Kevin, by the way,” he met those blue eyes briefly before a smile appeared on the man’s face.

“Finally, I was wondering when I could stop calling you _Brown Eyes_ ,” Kevin attempted and failed to hide his blush, “I’m Connor.” 

He spent the rest of his lunch break pretending to listen to his friends and Sam, while glancing back at the man behind the counter – _Connor_ behind the counter – way too many times for no one to catch up on. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice each time Connor glanced back, either unable to hide the smirk on his face or not even trying to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I've never written McPriceley before, and I haven't written a fic in forever so forgive me if I'm rusty (I know I am). I'm not really sure how alive and well the BoM fandom is, but hey I just joined and after reading so many amazing McPriceley fics on here, I decided to give it a go myself. Most inspiration comes from strengthsbasedmediocrity and neverbirds, who might be my two favorite writers in the world, so if you for some unexplainable reason haven't checked them out - what are you waiting for? They're fantastic! 
> 
> Anyhow, this was mainly for my own enjoyment and I'll probably keep writing on this either way, but a comment or kudos goes a long way, so that's always appreciated! Also, if anyone wants to rant about bom (or other musicals, I'm flexible) with me, hit me up on tumblr at @sprinkleofharries! 
> 
> Hope you liked it, and thanks again for reading!


	2. The Seventh Floor

Kevin had made it a habit to stop by Birch, the coffee shop Connor worked at, every morning lately, fully aware that Connor did not always work those shifts. He didn’t really mind, because as he’d become somewhat of a patron, the other baristas seemed to remember him and his order as well. He normally hated small talk, yet something about the place made him more comfortable than usual. 

He’d get in at around seven-forty, exchange some flirty banter with Connor or chat with one of his colleagues, and be out by seven-fifty, black coffee in hand. Nothing more, nothing less. Kevin loved routine, and this soon became his favorite one. 

Arnold had started to pick up on Kevin’s newfound habit, noticing the branded cup he always came into work with. He had yet to connect the dots, however. 

“Man, you must’ve really liked that place,” Arnold beamed as he walked past Kevin to his side of the cubicle, still talking after sitting down on the other side of the wall. “Good thing I brought you last week!”

Kevin furrowed his brow at Arnold’s words, but quickly realized he was talking about their little _double date_. He never mentioned that he’d been in before, and more importantly, he never mentioned he knew one of the employees by name. 

“Yeah,” he said. “The coffee was really something.”

“You know, I kinda disagree honestly,” Arnold was standing now, arms propped up on the wall to see Kevin. “It was fine, but crazy expensive compared to other places.”

“You should see their takeaway prices then,” Kevin chuckled to himself, but Arnold seemed less amused. 

“Doesn’t seem like that good a reason to go there,” he raised an eyebrow. “So, tell me, why do you _really_ go? 

Kevin didn’t know how to answer that. “Really, it’s- it’s just the coffee. I really like it.”

“You drink the most basic version of coffee, Kev, it’s the same everywhere,” Arnold countered, and Kevin restrained from pointing out that black coffee is not _basic_ , but Arnold continued before he even got the chance to answer. “You sure it’s not because of the company?”

“Uh,” Kevin deadpanned. 

“Like the first time you went you were with a certain someone and that’s why you keep going back?” Arnold wiggled his eyebrows at that. “A certain _Sam_ -one, if you will.”

“That’s terrible even for you, Arnold.” Kevin had endured many bad jokes, but this one had to take the cake. 

Arnold seemed more than happy to continue to pry an answer out of Kevin, but as luck would have it, their boss appeared in the doorway and even Arnold knew better than to be caught not working. He quickly disappeared down the other side of the wall and Kevin breathed out a sigh of relief. He had to tell him sooner or later, Kevin just kind of hoped that Arnold would figure it out himself before he had to spell it out to him. 

\--- 

Kevin was hard at work when a voice startled him back to reality. 

“Kevin?” he turned around and spotted his boss looking down at him. “Could I have a word with you?”

_Shit_ , Kevin thought. Nothing good had ever come after those words, it was the workplace equivalent to _we need to talk_. 

Reluctantly, he followed her away from his desk, through the doorway and into the elevator. _Shit_ , Kevin repeated in his head. If she was going through the effort of taking him all the way up to her office, it couldn’t be anything but bad. Kevin bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, hoping he didn’t look nearly as nervous as he felt. 

As they reached the eleventh floor, his boss gestured for him to step out before her, which Kevin hesitantly did. He had only been on her floor a few times, there was usually no reason for him to be up here and he had no problem with that. It meant he was doing well enough to not be fired, but not too well to stand out. He was just someone in the middle, but then again, mediocrity had never suited Kevin Price. 

He examined the office once they had entered, feeling the anxious thoughts invading every brain cell and worry seeping through his veins. He focused his eyes on the nameplate in front of him. _Christina Marquez_. Kevin knew her name, but somehow it was easier to repeat the words over and over than to meet her condescending eyes. 

_That’s not fair_ , Kevin quickly reminded himself. Sure, his boss wasn’t known as the warmest person around the office, but generally, no one above the fifth floor was especially nice, at least not to himc. Kevin didn’t mind most of the time, as he spent most of his working hours on the third floor where people didn’t go out of their way to get to know him, but also didn’t bother to criticize his every move. It wasn’t an ideal work environment, but he needed the money. 

“So, Kevin,” Christina started, clicking her tongue, “you’ve been with us, what, six months now?” 

“Five,” Kevin corrected, finally dragging his gaze away from the nameplate to meet her eyes, “and nine days.” He didn’t know why he added that last part. Perhaps it was the nerves, but his attention to detail seemed to amuse his boss.

“Counting the days, huh?” she chuckled, and Kevin forced a smile. 

“You’re very ambitious, Kevin,” she continued, “you work very hard and it shows. You know we value those qualities, but I have a feeling you could do even better.” She fell silent for a moment, and Kevin searched her face for clues. 

When Kevin didn’t respond, she furrowed her brow slightly and started again. “There are going to be some changes around here,” _fuck fuck fuck_ , “and I thought it best if you heard it from me and not someone else,” _that’s it, I’m fired_ , “There’s a spot opening up on the seventh floor,“ _oh well, I had a good run_ , “and I’m going to recommend you for the position.”

Wait, _what_? That couldn’t be right.

“Me?” 

“You.” 

Kevin didn’t know what to say. He hated his job and now he was up for a promotion? To the seventh floor at that. He only had a bachelor’s degree in finance and two years of experience, not to mention he’d been here much shorter than most people in his department. How was this happening?

“Can I ask why?” he said bluntly, and Christina offered him an understanding smile.

“Of course. I understand if this seems sudden to you, but I think you have more potential than you let on. Your last case – the Mueller case, was very impressive for someone at _your_ level,” there was a hint of respect in her otherwise condescending tone that surprised Kevin. “Of course, you’ll be taking on a lot more responsibility, and you’ll be working directly with our clients. The workload will be quite heavy, but I’m sure the increase in pay will make it more tolerable.”

“I’m getting a raise?” Kevin deadpanned, which made Christina let out an amused scoff.

“That’s usually the part people choose focus on,” she said, “however, nothing is final yet. I’ll know more at the end of the week.” 

At that, Kevin was dismissed and made his way down to the third floor again. She said she’d let him know as soon as the decision was final, probably sometime next week, and Kevin didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or scream. He quickly found Arnold and dragged him into the thankfully empty breakroom. 

“Hey, buddy, slow down! What’s happening?” Arnold looked bemused with a hint of worry in his eyes. “Were you fired? Are they laying people off? Am I gonna be unemployed, Kevin?!”

“No, Arnold, no- hey don’t freak out, it was good news,” Kevin tried to calm his friend, “at least I think it was.” 

“Good news how?”

“I’m up for a promotion,” Kevin couldn’t hide his smile now. Sure, Kevin might have hated his job, but he could still do that on the seventh floor with better pay. “Seventh floor, Arnold, _seventh floor_.” 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing, Kev!” Arnold beamed at him. “We have to celebrate!” 

“Well, I don’t know for sure yet, so let’s not be too hasty,” he tried, but Arnold was already writing something on his phone. 

“Kevin… huge promotion… celebrating on Friday… get _turnt_ ,” Arnold was talking as he typed something out, and soon enough, Kevin felt his phone vibrate. 

_Hey y’all!! Kevin just got a HUGE promotion so we’ll be celebrating on Friday. Let’s get TURNT!!_

Kevin frowned, watching the replies roll in. “Is this a group chat, Arn? Who are these people? Who’s _Steve_? I don’t know a Steve!” When taking a closer look at the people who had replied so far, Kevin realized he didn’t know _anybody_. 

“He’s a buddy, or well, he was a buddy in college, at least,” Arnold’s smile was briefly replaced by a frown. “Come to think of it, I’m not even sure he lives in New York.” 

Kevin narrowed his eyes as Arnold shrugged. “Then why’d you invite him to my _promotion_ party? Emphasis on the promotion I haven’t even technically gotten yet!” 

“Relax pal, I’ve got a good feeling about this!”

“I’m not even sure I’ll know by Friday,” Kevin sighed, “what if we celebrate too soon and jinx it and then I’ll never be able to get anywhere in this company and then I’ll get fired and won’t be able to afford my rent – which, by the way, I barely can afford as it is because this is fucking New York and I can’t get a roommate because I need my space and- oh my god I’m gonna be homeless-“ Kevin felt his heart racing and found it increasingly difficult to breathe, as Arnold pulled him in for a hug trying to calm his nerves. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” he said, and Kevin found himself doubting those words more with every passing second. 

\--- 

Come Friday. Kevin’s sleep deprivation had reached a new peak, as pointed out by Connor during this morning’s coffee run. 

_“You look like shit,”_ he’d said, with just the tiniest hint of worry in his otherwise teasing tone. 

Kevin had just made some excuse about being stressed over work, which technically was true. He had received a text from his boss that morning, simply asking him to come straight to her office when he arrived. He almost had a panic attack on the elevator ride up, certain that he was about to be met with nothing but bad news, but to his surprise, Christina had smiled slightly warmer and offered him a handshake as he walked in. 

_“Welcome to the seventh floor,”_ she’d said, and Kevin couldn’t believe it. 

Now it was past eight in the evening, and he found himself crammed into Arnold’s apartment with at least fifteen people he’d never met before. Some of them had congratulated him on the promotion, but most of them didn’t even seem to know who they were supposed to be congratulating. He downed the Vodka Soda Arnold had prepared for him and found Naba on the couch. 

“I hate parties,” he said bluntly as he plopped down next to her.

“Cheer up,” she offered, “it’s _your_ party, after all.”

“I don’t even know these people,” Kevin whined, “and I’m not nearly drunk enough to pretend that I do.”

Naba laughed at that. “Then _get_ to know them, that way you won’t have to pretend.”

Kevin shot her a tired look, which made her roll her eyes. But Kevin could still detect a small smile playing on her lips. 

“Just play nice for another hour and then we’ll head to a bar,” she nudged him gently before adding, “Sam’ll be there.” 

_Great_ , Kevin thought. He had still neglected to mention his disinterest in girls to either Arnold, Naba, or Sam. Perhaps he just needed some liquid courage. Before he could excuse himself to go get another drink, Arnold appeared at his side, seemingly reading his thoughts, as he offered Kevin another Vodka Soda. 

“I was literally just about to get a new drink,” Kevin grinned, “thanks for reading my mind, Arn.”

“That’s what a best friend does!” Arnold smiled brightly, and Kevin averted his eyes. 

He’d never said out loud that Arnold was his best friend. Honestly, he felt bad for not being as outwardly enthusiastic about their friendship as the other was, but these things didn’t exactly come naturally to Kevin. He had never been close to anyone since leaving the Church of Latter-Day Saints, and even then, it hadn’t been the kind of closeness that felt _real_. Sure, he used to be quite close to his brother Jack back when they were kids, but most of his family cut ties with him after he left for college in Michigan. Even there, he didn’t exactly make any close connections. No brotherly bonds to last him a lifetime, no, mainly just a study group and some drinking buddies. 

Kevin made a mental note to tell Arnold he appreciates him more often. 

The next hour went by faster than Kevin had expected, and suddenly he was sat at a bar, ordering his third – or was it fourth? – drink. Arnold had dragged a reluctant Nabulungi to the dancefloor, and Kevin watched as she laughed at her boyfriend’s adorable, yet somehow impressive, dance moves. He had greeted Sam when she arrived, but quickly excused himself to go get another drink, and now she was chatting away with someone from Arnold’s apartment that Kevin never bothered to learn the name of. On one hand, he was relieved, but on the other, he was lonely. Kevin liked being alone, but he hated being lonely. 

“Hello, stranger,” a voice jerked him back to reality, and he nearly knocked his drink over as he turned around. 

“Connor? Hi!” he said, a bit too eagerly if the smirk on Connor’s face was anything to go by. “What are you- Hi,” he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in his system or the sheer shock of meeting his coffee shop crush outside of said coffee shop that made him stumble over every word that fell out of his mouth. 

“Mind if I sit?” Connor gestured to the seat beside him, and Kevin responded with an exaggerated gesture that he hoped conveyed a _no, not at all_. “So, I think I saw your date over there.”

Kevin glanced over to where Sam was standing, still talking to the nameless guy from before, and he winced slightly, not sure what to say. “She’s not- I didn’t invite her,” he settled on, and Connor just smiled. 

“Why not?” he asked, “she’s cute.”

Kevin snorted at that. No doubt she was cute, but Connor couldn’t possibly think he liked her after pestering him with flirtatious banter every morning for the past two weeks. “Well, I’m pretty sure Dude Perfect over there is chatting her up anyway, might as well cut my losses.”

“Who? Steve?” Connor raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the two, “I hardly think he’ll be taking her home.”

“You know him?” 

“Yeah, we used to date back in college,” he shrugged, “I’ve known him since fifth grade though, and trust me, he’s as straight as the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

Kevin stared at him for a second, surprised by the jealousy building in his gut. “You know, the Leaning Tower of Pisa is still technically straight, it’s just tilted to one side.”

Connor shot him an unimpressed, yet amused eye-roll. “Are you always a smart-ass?” 

“I’m just pointing out facts,” Kevin countered.

“So, yes then,” Connor teased, and Kevin couldn’t hide the smile on his lips. 

Kevin had finished three more drinks before Arnold had come back to drag him to the dancefloor and try as he might, if Arnold wants to dance, Arnold’s going to dance. Thankfully, he was drunk enough not to worry how he looked as he moved to the music, in fact, he was even _having fun_. 

And that’s saying a lot, because Kevin Price did not find dancing _fun_. 

Yet, there he was, unafraid and enjoying himself. He even forgot how awkward he felt when enthusiastically introducing Connor as the _coffee guy!_ to Arnold, and the humored scoff the barista had let out directly after. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything, no, he cared _for_ everything. He smiled at every person he made eye contact with, high fived a guy for reasons he’d already forgotten, and made sure to catch Connor’s eyes every time he found him watching him. 

He let himself be swallowed by the rhythm and blinking lights, worries washing away with every Whiskey Sour he ordered, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his mind shouting _you’ll regret it tomorrow_. Because if his past had taught him anything, it was that tomorrow was indeed a latter day. 

\--- 

Kevin was awakened by the blinding light of the sun seeping through his bedroom window, and he cursed himself for never fixing those godforsaken blinds. He turned over and frowned as he noticed the left side of his bed neatly made. Sure, Kevin mostly stayed on the right side, but there was no way the duvet had stayed so perfectly still. And then it hit him. He wasn’t alone last night. 

The memories came flooding back like a dam collapsing in his mind. The roaming hands, the hungry eyes, lips crashing together in perfect symphony and desperation. Nails digging into his back, kisses trailed down his chest, his torso, his- 

He stopped himself when he remembered the eyes that had glanced up at him. He knew those eyes too well by now, as he’d spent two weeks fantasizing about them in exactly the position that was now fresh in his mind. But looking around the room, there was no trace of the freckled man from last night. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to listen if he heard someone in the kitchen, but alas. Unless Connor was extremely quiet, there was no chance he was still in the apartment. 

Kevin felt a sudden pain in his chest. Connor had left without so much as a goodbye. His stomach turned and he was soon forced to remember the excruciating hangover he’d blissfully ignored at first. Without a second thought, he threw himself off the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom where he hurled into the toilet far more times than he cared to admit. Maybe that voice had been right after all, because right now, Kevin regretted most things from last night. 

But mostly, he just felt lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself, writing this is my new addiction. Which definitely won't be of any help when assignments and exams I'll surely procrastinate studying for are due, but I digress. Hope you liked this chapter, anyway!
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if some of the characters seem slightly off or different from chapter one, I'm still finding my voice for writing McPriceley, so there may be some bumps in the road. Hopefully, I'll get there soon enough, and in the meantime, enjoy the rollercoaster of ever-changing personalities. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'

Kevin spent most of the day in the bathroom, even when he knew that all the alcohol from last night had left his system, he was still spewing up bile, feeling as though his insides were being turned out. Kevin hated hangovers. He hated alcohol and drinking his inhibitions away. What good did one night of complete freedom do if he’d spend the following day in total misery? The aching in his head only worsened as the hours ticked by, and by the time he’d been able to drag himself to the couch, it was past four. He hadn’t eaten all day, yet the sheer thought of food nearly made him gag. 

What had gone wrong? Kevin couldn’t connect the dots, certain that some piece of the puzzle had gone missing somewhere between the tangled sheets and unspoken promises. The memories replaying in his mind, like a movie he couldn’t seem to shut off. There were gaps, though, Kevin remembered. Little voids here and there that could contain the missing information that had ruined what had felt like _everything_. 

He dug his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the seventeen missed texts from Arnold and opened his contacts app. He didn’t have to scroll very far to find what he was looking for.

_Connr coffre ship._

He winced at the painfully obvious evidence of just how drunk he’d been last night. Perhaps that was why Connor had left. Maybe he’d been too intoxicated to have sex, maybe he’d even fallen asleep during… 

Trying to ignore the theories accumulating in his mind, he typed out a text and hit send. 

_What happened last night?_

Before he had the chance to even think about sending another message, his phone started ringing, and in the split second it took for him to realize it wasn’t Connor, his heart still managed to skip a beat. With an exasperated groan, he accepted the call, hoping he hadn’t forgotten anything else from last night’s abundance of embarrassments. 

“Yeah?” his voice sounded way hoarser than he’d expected, the words scraping against the inside of his throat like sandpaper. 

“Hey, buddy! Jeez, you sound like you’ve smoked two packs a day since 1972,” Arnold’s voice felt sharp against his ear, even though Kevin could tell he was trying to rein his enthusiasm in. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve just puked my guts out.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Kevin could practically hear Arnold wrinkle his nose. “Well, that’s no way to spend a Saturday,” he was quick to cheer up. “I’m coming over with ice cream.”

“I’m really not in the mood for-“ 

“You need some cheering up, Kev, I can tell! Be there in an hour!”

The line went dead and Kevin let out a sigh so deep he could feel his stomach caving in on itself, and he soon remembered how empty it was. 

_Bring pizza too_ , he texted Arnold after realizing he wouldn’t get out of it. Feeling slightly bad for ignoring him all day – even if it was due to the whole spewing up bile thing – he quickly added _My treat_ in another text. 

When Arnold just replied with a thumbs up, Kevin closed his eyes and let himself doze off for a few minutes. 

\--- 

Kevin jolted awake as the doorbell echoed in his ears, long after it had stopped ringing. He realized just how awful he not only looked but smelled too, as he made his way to answer the door. Knowing – or perhaps hoping was a better word – that it was Arnold, he simply turned the lock before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Sure enough, Arnold let himself in, and Kevin answered his _hey pal_ with a quick wave and a muffled _I just need a sec_. 

As he shut the bathroom door behind him, he could hear Arnold make his way to the kitchen. His reflection was pale and miserable, the dark circles under his eyes more evident than ever, and his hair a mess. No wonder Connor left if this is what he woke up to. 

He decided to take a quick shower, the warm water embracing him, and he could feel his body get lighter as if all his worries washed away down the drain. He closed his eyes and was pleased to find only darkness. No memories to dwell on, no reprise of last night’s debacle, just a dark, empty void where he could stay forever. 

But Kevin soon remembered Arnold was here, and Kevin Price liked spending time with Arnold Cunningham. Even if his head kept aching and the unsettling ways his insides were twisting and turning never seemed to stop, Arnold always found a way to make most things better. Kevin made a mental note to thank him for that later.

A few minutes later, he sank down on the couch next to Arnold, who handed him a slice of pizza, a slight hint of worry in his sympathetic smile. They ate in silence for a while, some cooking show on in the background, but Kevin paid no attention to the TV in front of him. Neither did Arnold, it appeared, as he was fidgeting with his phone with a concentrated frown.

“Everything alright, bud?” Kevin shot him a concerned look. “You seem a little preoccupied.”

“Oh, uh,” Arnold hesitated for a moment, which took Kevin a bit by surprise as Arnold very rarely felt uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts. “It’s Naba. She’s just seemed… off today.”

“Off how?” Kevin asked. 

“Well, she was kinda short with me all morning, didn’t really say much,” he shrugged, and Kevin could tell this was really bothering him. “I’m worried she’s gonna, you know, end it.” 

“Oh, Arn,” Kevin couldn’t restrain from reaching out and pulling him in for a hug, despite his usual distaste for physical contact. “She loves you; she wouldn’t do that. I’m sure she was just hungover, or in a bad mood, or – I don’t know exactly, but she’s not gonna break up with you. That I’m sure of.” 

Arnold blinked at him as he pulled away. “How do you know?” Arnold sounded much softer than usual, and something in Kevin’s heart broke when he heard the slight crack in his voice as he spoke. 

Kevin averted his gaze for a moment, trying to think of an answer. How _did_ he know? It didn’t exactly take a genius to see that Arnold and Nabulungi were both head over heels for each other. Someone perceptive would notice the warm smiles, longing stares, and the little things they did for each other purely out of affection. Arnold would text her every morning when they stayed in their own apartments, Naba would sometimes bring Arnold Jell-O from the hospital because she knew how much he – for some unexplainable reason – loved it. They would sometimes bicker over small things like where to order takeout from or what movie to watch during movie nights, but Naba being ever the pragmatic, usually ended up solving the argument based on who decided last. Kevin thought by now they would have established a better way to keep track of these things, but it seemed they both enjoyed the occasional quarrel. 

“I just do,” he answered after some time. “The way she looks at you is- it’s special, _you’re_ special to her, it shows.”

Kevin wasn’t pleased with that answer, but he found it difficult to form his thoughts into actual sentences. Sensibility wasn’t exactly the Prices’ forte. For the most part, Kevin hated speaking openly about his feelings. He hated the vulnerable state it put him in; the feeling of his walls shattering around him. It brought back too many memories of suppressed thoughts. The image of his father’s scorning eyes, and the deafening silence, leaving Kevin to chastise himself. 

And Kevin had learned a long time ago which strings to pull to make himself fall apart. Years of practice can do that to a person, whether they realize the abuse or not. 

They sat in silence for a while. Arnold’s expression had softened now, and though his eyes were fixated on the TV in front of them, Kevin could tell he wasn’t paying attention to it. Seeing his friend like this – broken by his own assumptions – was new to Kevin. Not only because it was Arnold, but because no one had ever really confided in Kevin before. People seemed to notice from just one glance how uncomfortable emotions made him. 

Kevin didn’t blame them; he was the first to avoid himself when it came to discussing feelings.

“I can’t believe you came here to make _me_ feel better with all that on your plate,” he said after a while, catching Arnold’s attention. 

“Bros before hoes,” Arnold shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips, and Kevin couldn’t help but laugh.

“You started dating before we met, Arnold.”

The smile had grown bigger now, just a hint of worry remaining in his eyes. “Still applies!” he exclaimed and bubbled out a laugh. 

\--- 

_7:40_

Kevin stared at the clock on his phone, mustering up the courage to confront Connor, or the common sense to let it go. He couldn’t decide. He had been standing outside Birch for ten minutes already, barely even conscious of how he got there, and he couldn’t make his mind up on what he wanted. Hell, he didn’t even know if Connor was working today, but if he were, Kevin wanted to curse him out and press him for answers while simultaneously taking the high road, not letting Connor see just how badly it had hurt. 

It wasn’t just the fact that he had left Kevin to wake up on his own. Sure, that stung too, but it was the _not knowing_ that truly killed him. Constantly asking himself _why_? The feeling of shame wrapping around him like thorny vines, slitting his skin as they pressed tighter and tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe and nothing remained. 

_No_ , Kevin decided. He was not going to let Connor get the satisfaction of seeing him writhe in self-loathing. As he pushed the door open, he held his head high and walked with confidence. Nothing could change his mind, he was stronger than that, he was _not_ going to let Connor- _oh, no, well there went that plan_. As Connor looked up from the dish he was drying, Kevin felt the wind get knocked out of him, and the vines tightened if only but an inch. 

Guess he wasn’t going to take the high road after all, because if Connor got to punch below the belt, why the hell shouldn’t Kevin?

“Morning,” Connor spoke hesitantly, watching as the frustration boiled in Kevin’s eyes.

“That’s it?” The words came out much harsher than he had intended. Or maybe they didn’t. “That’s all I get? _Morning_?” 

“Kevin-“

“You couldn’t even bother to answer a fucking text and now all I get is _morning_?” he mocked.

“Please-“

“Is that what you do? You flirt with customers until they fuck you and then act like they’re what? Dust in the wind?” Kevin hadn’t noticed the few people around them watching uncomfortably, his eyes were locked with Connor’s, searching for clues to the other’s thoughts, but he came up short. 

“Kevin, I’m at work,” Connor hissed in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation down. “Can we please do this later?” 

“Do what?” Kevin pushed. “What is _this_?”

“I’ll call you when my shift ends, just, please-“

“Don’t bother.”

With that, Kevin stormed out, fully aware that he’d neglected his morning coffee in the blind rage he’d barely been present for. He knew he had no right to be so damn upset, Connor hadn't signed a contract that made him obliged to say goodbye or text back or ask to see Kevin again. Kevin felt cheated without even playing the game. He hadn’t meant to go off like that, either, but _the nerve_ on Connor, how he had the stomach to stand there as if nothing had happened. _Morning_ , he scoffed as he pushed open the door to his job. 

This was going to be a long day. 

\--- 

“So, how’s life on the seventh floor, Kevin?” Naba asked from the kitchen while Kevin helped set the table. “I hear it’s quite the upgrade.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” he smiled even though he knew she had her back to him. “I’ve just started my first case with this major client and it’s really such a different experience, getting to actually meet the people we’re working with. Don’t get me wrong, as nice as it was to sit at a desk only having to worry for myself, I really enjoy working with a team, you know? And everyone’s been really nice so far, which I’m still a bit shocked by, to be honest.”

Naba joined him at the table, the lasagna coming straight from the oven, and Kevin swore it smelled exactly like the one his mother used to make. Arnold emerged from his bedroom when getting a whiff of the food, earning a brief smirk from Nabulungi, followed by an _oh, now you want to help_.

Once they’d finished dinner and perhaps one too many glasses of wine, Arnold made some excuse about _checking a work thing_ that both Kevin and Naba knew meant video games, and he swiftly avoided the washing up. Kevin helped Naba clear the table and they got started on the dishes, Kevin by the sink and Naba on his left with a towel. Kevin didn’t mind household chores, in fact, he quite enjoyed them, especially if it meant helping a friend. He didn’t know whether he’d call Nabulungi a friend yet. Sure, he had known her almost as long as he’d known Arnold, but he hadn’t spent nearly as much time with her. He added on his list of mental notes to become Naba’s friend, or – if he already were – to maintain that friendship as best he could. 

They had been talking about an incident at the hospital that almost made Kevin drop the glass he was washing due to laughing too hard, but the conversation had come to a halt, if but a pleasant one. 

It didn’t last too long, however, before Naba broke the silence again.

“So, did you have fun last Friday?” she asked, a bit wary as she watched Kevin. “You kind of disappeared without any warning at the end.”

“Yeah, I had a blast,” he offered a quick smile. “I guess I just got tired. Sorry for not saying goodbye, I- well, I was probably too wasted to find you anyway.”

Kevin chuckled lightly, masking the regret washing over him as the thorny vines grew tighter around his body. 

“You spent quite a lot of time with that man from the coffee shop,” she stated, rather than asked. 

“Did I?” Kevin tried and failed to feign innocence. 

“Mmhm,” she hummed in agreement. “Did he leave around the time you did?”

Kevin froze for a second. That seemed like a question she already knew the answer to. Question was, should he take the bait or keep up his act of naivete. 

“Maybe? Why do you ask?”

She paused for a moment before answering, as if she were choosing her words with immense care. 

“I’m just going to ask you this and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she started, clearly uncertain how to go about things and Kevin had no doubt what the following question would be. “Do you like him?” 

Despite anticipating the question, a part of Kevin’s brain he’d fought so hard to ignore, suddenly kickstarted and took his common sense and rational thinking hostage. He felt his brow furrow and words forming in his throat that he knew would turn to daggers as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. 

So, he didn’t. He reluctantly shook his head, more as an attempt to rid his mind of the intruding thoughts than as an answer. 

“Because if you do, you know you could share that with us, me and Arnold. Or just Arnold, if you feel more comfortable with him,” she reached out to place a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, but Kevin jerked away, not entirely sure why. 

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled, unable to meet Naba’s eyes as she searched for his gaze. “I should go.”

Naba didn’t argue, and Kevin wasn’t sure why he wanted her to – but god, he really wanted her to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for reading, it means the world xx


	4. Crying is the most fun a boy can have without taking his clothes off

Kevin Price hated crying. Not that he ever actually allowed himself to cry, but the sheer idea made him sick. The last time he remembered crying was when he was fourteen and the Prices’ family dog died. His father had only offered a stiff, yet comforting, pat on the back and a less helpful _It’s part of life, son_. Since then, his tear ducts had been permanently turned off, and Kevin didn’t plan on breaking now, just because Naba reached out and he ran away. Kevin had always thought that if it came to fight or flight, he’d stand his ground, proudly. 

He quickly added that to his list of wrongful assumptions.

He felt bad for leaving Naba without so much as an explanation, knowing her intentions were good and that she had only wanted to help. Kevin wanted to tell her – _needed_ to tell her, like he’d promised himself he would if anyone were to ask. So, then why had it been so hard to say _anything_? 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Kevin’s heart jumped in the hopes of it being Nabulungi. But to his dismay, the blue eyes staring back at him were not those of his friend.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted out in a fit of confusion, frustration, and pure, irrefutable _need_. 

“You wouldn’t answer my calls,” Connor shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I owe you an explanation, remember?”

When Kevin didn’t answer, Connor took the freedom to invite himself in, throwing his jacket over the back of the couch as he took a seat. Kevin hadn’t moved, still perplexed as to why exactly Connor was here. 

“I thought I told you not to bother,” he said after a moment, closing the door behind him. 

“I don’t want your grudge on my conscience,” Connor gestured to the empty seat beside him, “You gonna sit?”

Kevin was not. Instead, he shifted his weight to one foot, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unfazed. He examined Connor’s face carefully, searching for answers behind the color of his eyes. Connor simply stared back, the only clue to what was going through his head was a raised eyebrow, but Kevin didn’t budge. A surprise he welcomed with open arms as the last time they spoke, he hadn’t been quite as capable to keep his composure. 

Connor clicked his tongue before speaking. “Look, Kevin, I like you. You seem like a good guy, and I get your situation, but,” he paused for a moment, still keeping his eyes locked with Kevin’s, “I’m not going back in the closet. That’s just not an option for me.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Kevin frowned.

“No, I know, look, it’s my fault,” Connor averted his eyes, “I should have made it clear before… well, you know, _that_ ,” he nodded his head in the direction of Kevin’s bedroom before running a hand through his hair, now seemingly trying to avoid Kevin’s gaze altogether.

Kevin, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Connor, watching his every move, unsure what he wanted Kevin to say. Connor bit his lip, his eyes going blank as if in deep thought before he let out a quiet scoff. 

“You know, the fact that your friends seem to think you’re interested in a girl should have been the first red flag,” he shook his head, a wry smile on his lips that Kevin was unable to read, but as Connor finally met his eyes again he detected the tiniest sliver of hope. “Unless you’re bi, I guess?”

Kevin’s first instinct would have been to laugh right in Connor’s face if it wasn’t for the fact that this entire thing – Connor showing up at his doorstep, his reaction to Naba’s question, and the looming feeling that something was terribly wrong inside him – made him second-guess everything. 

When he didn’t answer Connor’s _are you?_ , but quietly took a seat next to him instead, the man let out another unintelligible chuckle. “Right,” he said before turning to face Kevin, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t have left that morning, not without telling you at least. I’m sorry.”

His gaze dropped down to Kevin’s lips for less than a second, but Kevin didn’t miss a beat and accepted the invite without hesitation. Connor sighed into the kiss as he ran his hands through Kevin’s hair, sending shivers down his spine that made him gasp ever so softly against Connor’s lips, which the man responded with a fleeting smile as he positioned himself on Kevin’s lap. His hands moved over Kevin’s chest and the soft moan that escaped his lips as Kevin trailed kisses down his neck made Kevin want him more than ever.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Connor’s breath hitched as he spoke, “I was serious before, you know.”

“Mhm,” Kevin hummed against his skin.

“I’m not going back in the closet.” 

Kevin pulled away briefly to meet Connor’s eyes. “How about the bedroom, then?” 

Connor scowled, but the playful look on his face was screaming _yes_. 

Until he caught himself. Connor pulled back, intensely watching Kevin’s face, before whispering a quiet _fuck_. Kevin didn’t push him as he stood up, or as more whispered regrets escaped his mouth. He knew it had been too good to be true, but he couldn’t help but feel rejected all the same. 

“You’re making it a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” he tried, but Connor disagreed. 

“No, you just don’t get it,” he shook his head, reaching for his jacket, “This can’t happen. I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Kevin stood up beside him, reaching out but Connor jerked away before they touched.

He studied Kevin’s face for a second, and Kevin did the same to Connor. Something about the way Connor stared at him just felt so painful, and Kevin instantly felt responsible for the hurt in Connor’s eyes. 

“I’m not going to be your secret, Kevin,” Connor’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Until your friends know, until you’re ready to introduce me as something other than _“the coffee guy”_ \- I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Kevin pressed his eyes shut, and for a second, he felt as if he was going to cry. But Kevin Price did not cry, and so he took a deep breath, steadying himself to no avail, because the words that came out of his mouth after that sounded way more desperate than Kevin would ever care to admit.

“I’m working on it, okay? It’s just not as easy as it seems-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Connor closed his eyes briefly before meeting Kevin’s frantic stare, “Don’t tell me it’s not easy as if I wouldn’t know.” 

Kevin didn’t know how to respond. Connor’s voice was sharp, and the somewhat sympathetic look in his eyes only went so far. He parted his lips slightly as if to speak, but either he hadn’t or Kevin hadn’t heard him, because before he knew it, Connor had turned on his heel and left Kevin with an all too familiar feeling of complete and utter desolation. The thorny vines puncturing his skin, but in that moment, the pain they inflicted didn’t compare to that of Connor’s rejection. 

\--- 

“Did you catch last night’s game?” 

“No, I picked up the kids for the week and you know how they are. Got stuck watching Frozen for the twentieth time.”

“Ah, well, you didn’t miss much.”

“Yeah, we got our ass beat. I would watch any kids’ movie to get those hours of my life back.”

“I hear that.”

“What about you, Kevin?”

Kevin was sat in the break room with some of his colleagues, and he’d happily avoided joining in on the conversation, lost in his own thoughts, but the sound of his name jerked him back to reality.

“Huh?” the sound escaped him before he could form an actual response.

“Did you catch the game? Last night?” Andrew asked expectantly, but Kevin had not the tiniest clue what game his colleague was even referring to.

“No,” he scratched the back of his neck, wracking his brain for a better excuse than _I was battling the fear that I might not be as okay with my sexuality as I thought I was_. “I was with a friend.”

“You feeling okay? You seem a little distracted,” Benjamin chimed in, no real concern evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kevin plastered on a smile as fake as his colleagues’ interest, “Just stressed about the meeting tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Marius waved his hand dismissively, “Roberts is far from the worst client, besides, he’s old,” a grin formed on his lips, “He’ll swallow whatever crap you throw his way.”

The men laughed in agreement, and Kevin forced out a _that’s true_ through gritted teeth.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his promotion, in fact, he loved it. Getting to work more hands-on with a smaller group of clients for a longer period of time was a way better fit than Kevin’s third-floor routine. He enjoyed working as part of a team, bouncing ideas off each other when struck with a problem. He even liked his colleagues, believe it or not, but it was the breaks he couldn’t bear. The shallow conversations about ex-wives and sports made him feel like he was trapped in an 80’s sitcom overflowing with stereotypes he could do without. He couldn’t seem to find any common ground with anyone other than May, a woman on the team responsible for investment management, who seemed to loathe office small talk as much as Kevin. 

“That’s our thirty gone,” Andrew said as their break came to a close, “Let’s get back to business, gentlemen.”

May walked in just in time to catch that, and Kevin couldn’t help but smile as she blatantly rolled her eyes at their colleagues. She gave him a quick smirk and offered a _stay strong_ , as he passed her on his way out, which he gladly responded with an _I’ll try_. 

\--- 

When the clock finally struck five and Kevin clocked out for the day, he hurried down to catch Arnold before he left. He felt bad for leaving without a goodbye yesterday, and he’d been too worked up to explain himself over text. 

“Arn!” he called as he spotted his friend on his way through the entrance door. 

“Hey, buddy!” Arnold beamed at him, and the familiarity felt so much better than Kevin had anticipated. “How’s your day been?”

“Stressful, but other than that not too bad,” Kevin followed him outside as they carried on their conversation. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for disappearing last night. I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“No worries, Naba explained,” Arnold said, and Kevin wondered just _what_ she’d explained.

“She did?” he asked, trying not to pry. 

“Yeah, and I get it, really,” he continued, “I mean, I think _my_ job is stressful, I can only imagine what it’s like on the seventh.”

Kevin let out a relieved breath. “Your job is just as important than mine, though, if not more. The people up there couldn’t do their jobs without you.”

“ _You’re_ people up there now,” Arnold nudged him with a smile, “Mr. Business.”

“Jesus, don’t ever call me that again.”

Arnold laughed, and they walked in silence for a while. Kevin breathed in the crisp air and let out a content sigh. He loved fall. The colorful leaves serenely falling from the trees only to be trampled by pedestrians, the sun setting earlier and earlier with every passing day, the pumpkin spiced everything that he loved to hate – or, if anyone paid close enough attention, hated to love. Of course, he’d never admit it; he had a reputation to uphold. But Kevin Price did not – contrary to popular belief – hate _everything_. 

“You were right, by the way,” Arnold said then, and when Kevin only shot him a bewildered look, he added, “About Naba. She was worrying about something from the night before and didn’t even realize she was being distant.”

“Told you,” Kevin smiled, “And next time you feel down you don’t have to use me as an excuse to come over, just call and I’ll bring the ice cream instead.”

Arnold didn’t answer, but he gave Kevin a grateful smile and Kevin hoped his friend – his best friend – would feel comfortable sharing his problems with him anytime. 

Kevin had almost forgotten about the aching in his mind, the unavoidable thoughts he’d been able to keep at bay for most of the day. Until they turned a corner, nearly colliding with an all too familiar barista exiting an all too familiar coffee shop. Connor was still wearing his work clothes, and he jumped slightly at the sight of them. 

“Oh,” he said, placing a hand over his heart, “Jesus, you frightened me.”

“Sorry about th- Hey, it’s you!” Arnold interrupted himself as he recognized the man, “Kevin’s coffee guy!”

Kevin winced, and Connor’s eyes darted over to look at him for a second. 

“Connor works, too,” he said, returning his attention to Arnold, a polite smile on his way too good-looking lips. Kevin caught himself staring and quickly averted his eyes.

“Steve told me you two used to date in college! I went to U of I too, but I don’t remember meeting you,” Arnold reminisced, and Kevin could think of a billion places he’d rather be than right here, right now. _In his apartment. At work._

“We were kind of private for the most part, Idaho isn’t exactly the most progressive state,” Connor explained.

_Back in Utah. On the mission he never went on._

“Oh, that makes sense. Sooo, are you guys getting back together?”

_In the fiery pits of hell._

“No, I think we had our fun. He’s not really my type anymore.”

Kevin made the mistake of scoffing at Connor’s last words, and suddenly both heads turned to look at him. _Literally anywhere but here._

“Anyway,” Connor clicked his tongue, “I’ve gotta run, I have a date in an hour and I need a good forty minutes to get ready but,” he paused as he glanced over at Kevin, “it was nice to see you again.”

“You too!” Arnold cheered, “And have fun on your date!” 

Kevin pursed his lips as Connor walked past them. He’d had his tongue down Kevin’s throat less than twenty-four hours ago and he _already_ had a date. A shock of realization struck him, that maybe he’d known about the date yesterday, too. Maybe Kevin was just dust in the wind to Connor. 

“What a nice guy,” Arnold said as they started walking again, and Kevin made some kind of noise he hoped sounded affirmative enough to not show how he truly felt. 

\--- 

Kevin had made sure to avoid getting his coffee at Birch ever since the night Connor had shown up at his apartment and left just as suddenly. He walked a different route to his job for the sole purpose of not having to see the coffee shop, or anyone who worked there for that matter, and he was thankful for the fact that no one on his floor had noticed the change that he knew Arnold would have pointed out, had they still worked together. Needless to say, he had gone to great lengths the past few weeks to avoid Connor, and, even if he refused to acknowledge it, the toxic mentality he thought he left behind in Utah. 

Every time Connor crossed his mind, a wave of shame flooded his senses and he felt like a kid again, a disappointment to his parents and the Church. _Sinners_ , that’s what his father used to call anyone who refused to adopt Mormon beliefs, and although he had never actually branded Kevin as one, the look he had given him the last time they spoke said more than any words ever could. 

He hadn’t been in the mood to go out tonight, but the incessant texts from Arnold forced him to give in at last. They were going to a bar, that’s about all Kevin had been told, and he reluctantly followed his friend through the entrance and over to a booth in the far corner. 

“Arnie!” Steve cheered as he spotted the two of them, “And the Kevster! How’s the promotion going? Is it more American Psycho or Wolf of Wall Street?”

“Still trying to figure that out myself,” Kevin shrugged, taking a seat next to Nabulungi. “I haven’t been offered any cocaine yet, though, or any prostitutes either, come to think of it.” 

He hadn’t noticed Sam on the other side of the table until she blushed at his words, and Kevin felt bad for never texting her back. 

“All in due time,” Steve grinned as he took a sip of his beer.

“You boys are disgusting,” Naba sighed, but offered Kevin a warm smile shortly after. 

Kevin was surprised how quickly he forgot about the pain and frustration inside him, and with every sip of his drink, the feelings decreased ever so slightly. Steve was a bit of a Chad, but Kevin liked him, nonetheless. He and Sam seemed surprisingly close, but in a platonic way, and Kevin kind of wished Steve would have been straight so he didn’t have to worry about letting Sam down. Not that she had paid much attention to Kevin all night, but he noticed her glance his way more and more often with every Martini she ordered. 

“You’re kidding, you can’t ski?” Steve exclaimed while Kevin had been lost in his own thoughts, unsure how the conversation had escalated to skiing.

Sam shook her head and laughed. “No, I’m from Austin, Steve! We don’t exactly get much snow.”

Kevin had completely forgotten that Sam had told him she was, indeed, from Austin on their first and only date. To be fair, it was quite difficult to remember without the accent that Sam either had trained away or perhaps never even had. 

“We have to go sometime! My folks own a timeshare up in Vermont and the trails are _gorgeous_ ,” Steve said, “I could probably get dibs for a week in December.”

“Ooh, Christmas in a ski lodge,” Arnold beamed, “That sounds like so much fun!”

“It’s a four-bedroom so you’re welcome to join us!” 

Kevin shifted in his seat as the other four started planning their trip, working out the details of getting days off work and how to get to Vermont. Naba had never been skiing before either, and Arnold seemed delighted as he would finally be the one teaching her something, and not vice versa. Kevin used to ski frequently when he was younger, but he hadn’t been since he left Utah, and honestly, the thought of going again didn’t exactly thrill him. 

As if Steve had read his mind just then, he asked, “You’re in, right, Kev?” 

Since when did anyone other than Arnold call him _Kev_? 

“Uhm, I don’t know,” he struggled to come up with a reason not to go, “I’ll probably have to work, anyway.”

“Nah, you’re one of the big shots now! Besides, the office is closed Christmas Eve and Day, we could probably make it back by Boxing Day if they won’t give you the day off,” Arnold reassured him, and Kevin couldn’t argue. He should have used an excuse Arnold couldn’t contradict. 

“Right,” he pursed his lips, “Well, there’s no reason for me to say no then, is there?” 

He was kind of hoping for someone to object, giving him a reason to back out, but everyone just smiled as they got back to figuring out the specifics. Kevin closed his eyes; he should have stayed home. 

\--- 

“Do I have to?” Kevin whined as he watched Arnold shoot zombies in some video game Kevin couldn’t care less about.

“Well, of course you don’t _have_ to,” he said without looking away from the screen, “But, it’ll be fun!”

“I’ll just be fifth-wheeling the whole time,” Kevin argued, and Arnold paused the game then, looking over at him. 

“Sam and Steve aren’t a couple,” he said simply, an amused look on his face, “Steve’s gay, so if anyone will be a fifth wheel, it’s him, don’t you think?”

Kevin wanted to counter and tell Arnold that by that logic, _Sam_ would be the fifth wheel, but he bit his tongue to keep the truth from spilling out. “Why do you even want to go?” he groaned instead.

“Because it’s gonna be fun!” he nudged Kevin gently, “And Steve’s my buddy so why would I not go?”

“You hadn’t spoken to him since college before inviting him to my promotion party.”

“And since then our friendship has rekindled,” he shrugged gleefully. “Do you not like him or something?”

Kevin shook his head, “No, no he’s great. I just don’t get why we have to go skiing with him,” he offered an apologetic smile which Arnold responded with a smile of his own.

“Because his parents are letting us stay for free,” he reminded Kevin, “Most of us didn’t get a promotion the past couple of weeks, this is kind of the perfect opportunity.”

Kevin couldn’t argue with that, and besides, the raise Kevin’s promotion had come with wasn’t enough for him to afford a week at a ski resort anyway, so really, this was a pretty decent opportunity for him too. Even though he hadn’t been skiing in years, he kind of missed feeling the frosty air against his face, the thrill of zigzagging down the slopes, and the beautiful scenery – god, he missed winter in Utah. The one time Kevin had felt completely free as a child was when his family went skiing, and he got to soar on the powdered snow with the fleeting feeling of invincibility. 

“You know what, you’re right,” he said after Arnold had turned back to his video game, “It’ll be fun.”

Arnold laughed and offered him a teasing, yet delighted _told you_ , that Kevin returned with an eye-roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to anyone reading this, even if I'm mainly writing this to satisfy my newfound BoM obsession, a kudos or comment is always appreciated!


	5. Little Women, Jealous Men

Kevin was in the middle of writing his last report for the Roberts case, the first client he had been allowed to take the lead with when a voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“I just spoke with Chuck Roberts,” Christina said, a somewhat smug look on her face, “and if that ain’t the most impressed I’ve ever seen him, I don’t know what is.”

“Oh,” was all Kevin could muster up.

“You did well. I knew you’d be a good fit,” she continued, taking a seat at the conveniently empty desk beside him. “How do you feel? You settled in yet?” 

“Uh, yeah,” he tried to communicate his confidence, but his shaky voice failed him. “It’s been a little stressful, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s the spirit,” she smiled, and for once, Kevin didn’t feel like she was mocking him. “If it’s any help, most of the guys around here were a bit insecure when they first started. But none of them wowed a longtime client on their first attempt.”

“It was a team effort, really,” Kevin felt his cheeks turn red, he didn’t want to take the credit all on his own.

“Modesty will get you nowhere in this line of work, Kevin,” she said, a meaningful look on her face. “You’re gonna have to step on some toes to get to the top.”

Unsure how to respond, Kevin just gave her a hesitant nod, and Christina smiled again. “Trust me, you don’t get to be the boss by playing fair.”

She stood up to let Kevin get back to his work but turned back around before she’d taken two steps.

“Oh, I just accepted your vacation request, by the way, but I’m keeping you late this weekend to make up for it,” she said, now sporting the self-righteous look most people on the seventh floor did. “Didn’t take you for a skier, Price.”

He shot her a humored smile and a quick _thank you_ before she turned on her heel and headed back toward the elevators. In hindsight, the conversation felt a bit bizarre. Had Christina come down here merely to tell him he did a good job with his first real client? And what was all this about stepping on people’s toes? The mere thought made Kevin shift in his seat; he didn’t want to upset anyone, but he did want to keep climbing the ladder. 

Looking around he noticed most of his colleagues wore the same sort of smug aura his boss did. The complacent smiles in the breakroom as they one-upped each other, the derisive eyes exchanging mocking looks whenever someone showed a sign of weakness. Kevin felt sick, yet strangely motivated. Despite his distaste for his colleagues’ mentality, Kevin could play the shark if need be. 

\--- 

As Kevin made his way downstairs at the end of the day, he felt quite elated, a feeling Kevin hadn’t experienced in a long time. He even felt proud of his work on the Roberts case, and he’d taken what his boss had told him to heart. Stepping on people’s toes couldn’t be all that bad, could it? It’s not like Kevin was a stranger to arrogance; he’d been the poster child for it before, surely, he could be again. 

Once he’d stepped outside, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and was somewhat surprised to see Sam’s caller ID. 

“Kevin Price.” 

“Hi, Kevin, it’s Sam,” she said, just a hint of awkwardness in her otherwise cheerful tone. 

“What’s up?” he tried and failed to ignore the guilt building in his chest, “Sorry for not calling you back, I’ve been- work has been trying.”

“Oh, I understand! I’ve been quite busy myself,” she laughed quietly, “But I’ve got the weekend off, so I’m having a party- well, something along those lines anyway, and uh,” she paused briefly, “you’re more than welcome to come.” 

“Oh,” Kevin deadpanned before scrambling together a sentence, “That sounds nice, Friday?”

“Saturday.”

Kevin suddenly remembered he’d have to work overtime this weekend. “I’d like that, but my boss is making me work late.”

Sam was silent for a moment, and Kevin immediately felt bad. “Oh, totally, I get it.”

“But I guess I could come by after if you’re still at it? I’ll probably be off by ten,” he found himself saying, he actually liked Sam, just maybe not in the way she seemed to like him.

“Yeah, that works!” she said, “I’ll, uh, I’ll text you the address.”

“Great,” Kevin smiled even though he knew she couldn’t see him, “See you Saturday.” 

They said their goodbyes and Kevin was surprised by the lack of remorse weighing down his chest. Perhaps Sam just considered them to be friends – or acquaintances at least – by now and invited him because of that. Or maybe it was the fact that Kevin presumed both Naba and Arnold would be there that allowed him to remain calm. 

He picked his phone back up and sent off a quick text to Arnold.

_Are you going to Sam’s party on Saturday?_

Arnold being Arnold – phone in hand at almost any given time – responded immediately.

_Yeah!! Are you?? Did you get her a gift yet??_

Kevin frowned.

_Yeah, she just invited me, and no, I have not. Is it her birthday on Saturday? She didn’t mention gifts._

_Dude!! TODAY is her birthday!!_

_Oh, shit. Well now I feel bad._

To be fair, it wasn’t Kevin’s fault Sam had chosen to omit the fact that it was her birthday, still, he probably could have asked why she was suddenly hosting a party. He sent her a quick _Happy birthday, by the way!_ for good measure.

_I can help you pick something out if you want, buddy!! Are you home?_

_On my way, can be at Macy’s in twenty if you’re free._

_I’ll be there!!_

Twenty minutes later, Kevin got off the subway at Penn Station and made his way to Macy’s where Arnold was waiting. He smiled broadly as he spotted Kevin, and Kevin responded with a quick wave. 

Once they’d made their way inside, Kevin sighed deeply. He had no idea where to even begin to look, it was a while since he bought a girl a gift. Come to think of it, the last time was probably his mother’s birthday before he went off to college. After that, he didn’t make much of an effort with getting his family gifts, and in response, they barely bothered calling him on holidays anymore. 

Kevin had never been the best gift giver though, he usually resorted to the standard, low-effort options that no one really wanted, but wouldn’t mind receiving anyway. Socks, ties, scented candles, perfume, the sort of thing you didn’t have to wish for – didn’t _want_ to wish for – because some unimaginative soul like Kevin Price would undoubtedly buy it either way. 

Without realizing it, Kevin had stopped in the lingerie section, staring blankly at a display of less-than-modest underwear, a frown on his face. That _couldn’t_ cover anything, he thought, that couldn’t even be remotely comfortable, either. Did women _choose_ to wear these? Or did the high beauty standards for women force them into thinking they needed a lace G-string for men to find them physically desirable? Was the sheer fact that Kevin would support a company that intentionally influenced women of all ages to buy these a part of the problem and does that make him sexist – oh god, he’s definitely sexist, of course, he is, it all-

Arnold cleared his throat, interrupting Kevin’s spiraling thoughts. He quickly looked away from the display and ignored the amused look on his friend’s face. 

“I just, I can’t imagine they’re comfortable,” he tried to explain himself, definitely sporting some red cheeks. 

“Naba says it’s kinda empowering,” Arnold shrugged, “but I wouldn’t know.” 

They left the underwear section and Arnold started suggesting things Kevin could buy, but Kevin couldn’t quite let the feeling of _what if I’m a misogynist_ go. 

“Alright, how about jewelry?” Arnold stopped at a display case with rings that cost more than Kevin’s rent. “That one’s nice!”

“I’m not getting her a ring, Arnold,” Kevin rolled his eyes, “Besides, isn’t jewelry a bit trite?” 

“Naba likes it when I get her earrings,” Arnold argued, “Or, well, she likes it when she gets to pick them out, anyway.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows and grinned. “So, I should definitely not be taking advice from you then.”

Arnold stuck his tongue out and Kevin laughed, as they continued the search for the perfect present. Kevin didn’t really know what approach to take, but he knew jewelry would most likely send the wrong message, so that was out of the question. Since he didn’t know too much about Sam – other than her being a radiologist from Texas, no matter how hard he wracked his brain to remember more – he had to take Arnold’s word for what she liked. Apparently, she enjoyed reading, she had a taste for indie music, and she liked looking at x-rays of people’s bodies.

“Do Macy’s have a book department?” he asked as they strolled down an endless aisle of handbags.

“Don’t think so,” Arnold furrowed his brow, “But Strand isn’t too far from here.”

“Would you mind if we went there instead? I feel like Macy’s isn’t Sam enough.”

“Sure,” Arnold smiled, “Let’s go.”

They made their way over to Strand and Kevin gawked at the rows of bookcases as they stepped inside. He could get lost in here, aimlessly examining every book he stumbled upon. But he wasn’t here for himself; he was here for Sam. While walking past piles of novels, Arnold picking one up every so often with an enthusiastic _what about this one?_ , Kevin stopped at a table scattered with a bunch of different books, but one caught his eye immediately. 

_Little Women_ , the front read. He remembered seeing this book in the library when he was ten, intrigued by the pretty cover, and when his mother had said it wasn’t a book for boys – _see, it even says little women on the front Kevin, we’ll find you a book for little men instead, okay?_ – he’d been devastated. He tried to find it in his school library the next day, but the librarian had told him they didn’t have it in stock, and if he wanted to request it, she’d need a parent’s signature. After that Kevin forgot about the book, until his second year of college when he spotted it in a second-hand store window. He hadn’t thought twice before buying the book and finishing it the same night. It hadn’t been life-changing per se, but something about the characters just resonated with him, and now, holding it in his hands, it just felt _right_.

“This one,” he said, turning to face Arnold, “It’s perfect.”

\--- 

_Leaving work now, be there in fifteen._

Kevin sent Sam a quick text before getting on the subway. He had been able to leave earlier than he’d expected, or maybe Christina had noticed him glancing up at the clock every other minute and gotten tired of him anxiously drumming his fingers. Kevin didn’t know why he was anxious, honestly, he was more excited to give Sam her gift since he had the feeling she’d like it. Although, another part of his brain felt stupid for getting her an old book. What if she only read sci-fi, or fantasy, or non-fiction? God, what if she _hated_ it? 

Kevin stopped his thoughts from snowballing into a full-on panic attack and tried to relax. 

Fifteen minutes later, Sam greeted him at the door, giving him a quick and only slightly awkward hug. He stepped into the hall, hearing loud voices and laughter from the next room. Arnold was definitely here, his laugh echoing along the walls. Kevin swore sometimes he could here Arnold laughing four floors beneath him at work, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief his friend was present. 

“Happy birthday, or uh, belated birthday,” Kevin handed the gift over and watched as Sam opened it.

Her smile faded as she got the wrapping off and she froze, eyes fixed at the cover, and Kevin cursed himself for not getting her jewelry. 

She shook her head slightly and looked up at Kevin with a shocked yet admiring smile. “Kevin, this is my favorite book,” she said, “How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” he averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat up for reasons beyond him, “It just felt right. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she smiled warmly for a few moments, before catching herself and immediately gesturing toward the other room, “Come on in! Fair warning though, everyone’s had a bit to drink, so you’ve got some catching up to do.”

“I have to work tomorrow, but I’m more than happy to watch you get drunk-” Kevin felt himself go red again, “I mean, not _you_ personally, all of you- everyone.”

Sam offered a giggle as she led him inside, “Well, you’re probably gonna see both, because I haven’t had a weekend off in a month,” she raised her glass as if giving a toast, “and I’m trying to forget the fact that I turn thirty next year.”

“Thirty is the new twenty, Sam!” Steve cheered before Kevin could say anything, 

“Well, that’s not gonna stop my mom from nagging me about wanting grandkids, is it Steven?” 

Kevin couldn’t help but smile then, Sam was clearly a bit drunk already, but she was still holding Kevin’s gift in one hand and for some reason, that made him happy. Or perhaps proud? He wasn’t sure, but he took a seat next to her on the couch because after all, it was her birthday and Kevin hadn’t been the best at acknowledging her in the past. 

Arnold was sitting between Naba and a guy Kevin didn’t recognize, and Arnold shot Kevin an enthusiastic grin before returning to the story he was telling his neighbors on the couch. The man sat next to him was blond, tanned, and from what Kevin could tell across the room, quite fit. Perhaps he was Steve’s plus one? Or maybe he was just one of Sam’s friends? The man interrupted Kevin’s internal guessing game as he met his apparently not so discreet stare, flashing him a smile before Kevin could avert his eyes. 

They landed on a door opening on the other side of the room, and Kevin froze when Connor walked out of what Kevin assumed was the bathroom. _Great._

Connor didn’t seem to notice him though and instead headed straight over to the blond across the room. He plopped down next to him, his hand resting on the man’s thigh. 

_Oh._ Kevin felt his heart sink. He wasn’t Steve’s date; he was _Connor’s_. 

\--- 

Before Kevin knew it, December had arrived, and even though New York had yet to see any snow, Kevin was exhilarated. Most stores had begun Christmas decorating much earlier, but Kevin was a strong believer that the Christmas season began on December 1st and ended on the 26th. Any more or any less was simply insane and Kevin would fight anyone who dared dispute. 

He hadn’t always loved Christmas. When he was young it had always been more of a social event than a holiday, with the Church at the center. His parents put more effort into looking like the picturesque family they strived to be than they did to make sure their kids were happy. Not that he should complain, he still got good food, several presents, and to spend time with friends and family. 

It was during his third year of college Kevin grew to appreciate Christmas, when his study group had arranged a game of Secret Santa. It was the first time Kevin had felt like Christmas was about more than being picture-perfect, and since then he’d promised himself to make the most out of the holiday. 

Despite the frenzy that ensued, the one time he actually enjoyed New York City was during the holiday season. 

The fairy lights gleaming in trees and on balconies, the reds and greens or blues and silvers, menorahs lighting up windows here and there – it was a magical time when people came together, and Kevin loved it. 

He was on his way to Steve’s apartment for a dinner party, though Kevin had a feeling it was rather a way for the enthusiasts of the group to plan the Vermont trip to even greater detail. Kevin liked order, but Jesus, did they _really_ need a five-page itinerary? Wasn’t the whole point of a vacation to _relax_? 

“Kevinator!” Steve greeted him. 

Kevin would never get used to Steve’s incessant commitment to making up nicknames for his friends, but he offered a polite laugh and a brief hug. Since Kevin’s promotion party, they had become somewhat of a friend group – him, Arnold, Steve, Naba, and Sam, and on occasion, Connor. Kevin had grown closer to most of them during the fall, and even though the constant reminder of Connor and his new beau, David, he liked it when they all hung out together. But he could definitely do without the last two named. 

Sam came to greet him in the hall, followed by, _wait_ , yet another man Kevin did not recognize. Had Connor moved onto a different guy that quickly? Even though he’d gotten used to seeing Connor with David, the thought of seeing him with _another_ guy made him boil over with jealousy. This guy was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome and Kevin already hated his guts. 

“Dominic,” the man moved his hand as if to shake Kevin’s, but instead he formed a fist and Kevin stared at it dumbfounded, before realizing he expected a fist bump. 

“Kevin,” he said and gently tapped his fist against Dominic’s with a disdainful expression. Was that the type of guy Connor went for, someone who introduced themselves with a _fist bump_?

Apparently not. Because once Kevin had made his way to the living room, he spotted Connor and David locking lips on the couch. Then who- 

Oh. _Oh_. When Steve leaned over and whispered something in Dominic’s ear that made him smirk and utter a _buy me dinner first_ , it all made sense. Dominic was practically Steve but taller, darker, and Kevin could admit – now that he knew he wasn’t trying to sleep with Connor – just a tad more handsome than the host. 

“What do you think all this is?” Steve winked as he gestured to the set table beside them. “Okay, horndogs, quit feeling each other up and get over here. Dinner’s ready!”

Connor rolled his eyes and noticed Kevin as he stood up, and if Kevin didn’t know better, he’d say Connor’s cheeks turned a shade slightly more red as he shot him a brief _hey_.

As they ate and talked and drank and enjoyed each other’s company, Kevin couldn’t help but feel like everyone was paired up. Arnold and Naba, Connor and David, Steve and Dominic, and then Kevin and Sam. He didn’t mind it all too much; he liked Sam. Sam was kind, ambitious, patient, and conventionally pretty, if Kevin were to judge. She always made an effort to include him in the conversation, listened to what he had to say, and seemed to genuinely care about him. If Kevin hadn’t been so intent on distancing himself from her, they probably would’ve been fast friends.

It became more evident once everyone had finished, though, and Naba – with a reluctant Arnold in tow – offered to take care of the dishes while Steve, Dominic, Connor, and David settled in on the couch. Leaving Kevin and Sam alone at the table. She took a sip of her wine and glanced over at him, surely noticing the awkwardness Kevin radiated. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be a couple’s dinner, either,” she offered a smile and Kevin shot her a thankful look back.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “You’d think they’d tell us these things.”

“I’ve learned to take Nabulungi and Arnold’s invites with a grain of salt,” she bubbled, “So, how you been?”

“I’ve been… good, yeah, and uh, sorry for not, you know, calling more.” 

Sam smiled softly, a wistful tint in her eyes. “Don’t worry about that. If you don’t feel it, you don’t feel it, right?”

Kevin heard the sentiment in her voice. The gentle smile still playing on her lips that somehow soothed and intimidated him simultaneously. He was grateful Sam never pushed him out of his comfort zone, never expected Kevin to ask her out, but Kevin wasn’t blind. He noticed the looks, the smiles, the attention, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it to some degree. The tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that _this is normal, this is what you’ re supposed to feel_. Kevin didn’t know if it was his guilty conscience, the vicious thoughts, or pure, utter impulse that made him lean in and kiss her. 

Her lips were softer than he’d expected, and the kiss was short and gentle, nothing like the eager intensity and hunger he’d felt when kissing Connor. It was nice. Sam was nice. Maybe love was safer that way. 

When he pulled back, Sam stared at him and he could tell she was confused even though she had kissed him back. Her lips closed and parted a few times before any words came out. 

“I stand corrected.” 

Kevin smiled. He didn’t know what else to do. It dawned on him then, that they weren’t alone, and he hastily looked over to the couch on the other side of the room. His eyes landed directly on Connor’s – of course, it had to be Connor – who glared in distaste, clenching his jaw as he turned back to face David again. Kevin bit his lip in thought. Was Connor _jealous_? The way he’d been staring at Kevin sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn’t help but smirk the more he noticed Connor glancing over at him. It was the most attention he’d directed toward Kevin since the night he’d showed up at Kevin’s apartment, and the fact that Connor radiated the same energy Kevin was sure he emitted when seeing Connor kissing David made it all the better. 

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, and Connor its blue-eyed twin. 

Kevin leaned back in his chair, a more complacent smile on his face than he dared admit. It takes two to tango, after all, he thought. But it might also take two to make a thing go awfully and irreversibly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to sound like a broken record, but thank you for reading! It is still very much appreciated.


	6. Haunted by the kiss

December had gone by faster than Kevin would have hoped. It was already the 20th and they’d be leaving for Vermont in two days. There had been some additions to the trip, namely Connor and David, and when everyone asked whether Steve was bringing Dominic, he had just frowned and asked _who?_. Kevin was rather relieved about that; he couldn’t bear having to fist bump Dominic every morning, no matter how handsome he was.

He’d been spending more time with Sam, too. Usually when they were all hanging out, but occasionally just the two of them. It mostly resulted in quiet make-out sessions that Kevin made sure stayed perfectly PG, and frankly, he didn’t mind. In fact, he made sure to sit a little closer to Sam, laugh a little more at her jokes, linger when tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Because he knew it drove Connor absolutely insane. 

Kevin would catch him staring, would linger when Kevin met his eyes, and it thrilled Kevin to the very core. He’d started getting his coffee at Birch again last week, answering Connor’s scoffs and eye-rolls by raising a challenging eyebrow that made Connor’s eyes turn even darker. 

The next day he stopped by Birch as usual and was immediately met by a bothered glare. 

“Morning,” he smirked.

Connor shot him a tired look and got started on Kevin’s coffee. 

“So, you and Sam are like a couple now, huh?” he scorned.

“Well, we don’t want to put any labels on it yet,” Kevin said, “How are things with you and David?”

“Oh, we’re peachy, Kevin,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Glad to hear that, he’s a great guy.” 

“He is,” Connor sneered, “You know what I like most about him?”

Kevin raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?”

“He’s doesn’t lie to himself.” 

_Touché._

“Yeah, well, I figured it couldn’t be his looks,” Kevin challenged, “because somehow I always catch you staring at me.”

Connor scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”

Connor put Kevin’s cup down on the counter with more force than necessary, eyes locked with Kevin’s and a devilish grin on his face. 

“That’ll be $4.20.” 

Kevin didn’t look away as he dug for the money in his pocket, making sure to linger when handing over the bill to Connor, who – despite the derisive expression – didn’t rush, either. His grin had faded and instead, he pursed his lips before opening his mouth to speak. Kevin waited, but when no words left Connor’s lips, he let go of the five-dollar bill and retreated his hand. The skin where their fingers had touched was still burning. 

Kevin didn’t necessarily like the person he’d become over the past few weeks. The smug and self-serving mindset he’d adapted for work had seeped out and infected his personal life in ways Kevin either hadn’t noticed or simply ignored at first. He knew for a fact Arnold wasn’t very pleased with his newfound conceit, so he tried not to let it show around him and Naba too much. But there was a sense of familiarity in the arrogance, an emotion Kevin was long since acquainted with. Growing up the smartest, best, most deserving Elder that the missionary training center had ever seen, it was hard to keep both feet firmly on the ground. He’d been the poster child for Mormonism, following in his father’s equally arrogant footsteps, and for what?

He didn’t go on his mission. He left the church and sought refuge at college. He despised the way his belief made him not only act but feel, too. Now suddenly, he was embracing that awful, self-righteous mentality he’d worked so hard to suppress. 

Kevin blamed Connor. If he hadn’t forced him back into the closet with his rejection, Kevin might not have changed at all. 

“See you tomorrow,” he said then, his mood turned a complete 180 before he turned on his heel and walked back outside. 

\--- 

Kevin woke up at 6am the following morning, and he was quickly reminded of why he loved winter so much. Well, it wasn’t the only reason, of course, but the fact that the sun had yet to rise, meaning no intrusive sunrays beamed through his bedroom window to force him awake was definitely one of them. The alarm going off at full volume, however, was not. 

He left for Arnold’s apartment an hour later, thankful he had packed the night before, and when he arrived, the two of them plus Naba and Sam got in the rental car Naba had picked up on her way over and then they were off. Connor, David, and Steve were driving up separately in David’s car, another thing Kevin felt ridiculously grateful for. 

The ride up took no more than six hours, despite having to pull over several times for Arnold to pee. Arnold had laughed when Kevin claimed that drinking a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew on the way up would be a bad idea, and after the fourth stop, he’d just retorted Kevin’s _what did I tell you?_ with an unamused _piss off_. Kevin had noticed the pun before Arnold even realized himself, and he simply rolled his eyes when his friend came to and doubled over with laughter. 

Steve, Connor, and David were already there when they arrived, and an overenthusiastic Steve emerged from the house when they pulled up in the driveway. 

“Took you long enough!” he cheered. 

“Blame Arnold,” Kevin, Sam, and Naba responded in unison while Arnold feigned innocence. 

The house was bigger than Kevin had expected, three floors, four bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms, a kitchen and a huge living room decked out with sofas, a TV, a pool table, and Kevin thought he even spotted a hot tub outside the window. He wanted to ask Steve how on earth his parents could afford to _own_ a place like this, even if it was a timeshare, but he felt rude asking and decided to just enjoy his stay. 

Arnold hadn’t stopped to check the place out but had instead rushed inside in search of the best bedroom. Naba sighed when he disappeared up the stairs, and Kevin offered a sympathetic look before they helped unload the car, Arnold still rummaging around somewhere on the second floor. Steve had already chosen a room, the master bedroom to be exact, which no one argued considering it was thanks to him they were all here. Connor and David had chosen the room opposite of Steve’s on the second floor, which left the two bedrooms on the third floor, and Kevin couldn’t care less where he slept as he was sharing the bed with Sam. Again, Kevin had to remind himself, it wasn’t because he didn’t like Sam, he was just worried sharing a bed would lead to certain activities Kevin was not comfortable with.

About twenty minutes later, when their bags were all stowed away in the hall as no one except Arnold had had the effort of carrying them upstairs yet, they decided to go out for a late lunch. Kevin felt nothing but pure bliss as they walked to the nearest restaurant, the snow peacefully falling on his face. Snow wasn’t really a rarity in New York but living in the city had its downsides as the snow didn’t tend to stay long on the pavement, and Kevin never found it in himself to go somewhere it did.  
After lunch, they set off for the slopes before they closed, no one more eager than Kevin, which surprised his friends as he was usually the last person to get hyped about _anything_. But Kevin loved winter. He loved the snow, the cold, the fresh air, the freedom, the _high_ of standing at the top of a mountain with nothing but the wind in his back. 

Sam was less excited though and froze when they arrived at the lift to the top.

“No way,” she said, staring at the chair lift in front of them. “I am not getting in that thing.”

“That’s virtually the easiest lift there is, Sam,” Steve teased, “You literally just sit there.”

“They close in thirty minutes anyway, I’ll just wait here while you guys go,” she said, and Kevin admired how she always insisted on not ruining anyone else’s fun. “I’ll learn tomorrow, or, something.”

Naba took a second look on the lift and joined Sam. “That thing looks like a deathtrap,” she said, “I’m good for the day too.” 

Kevin couldn’t blame them. For someone who had never gone skiing in their entire life, he could see how the highest chair lift in Vermont didn’t exactly seem inviting. 

The five of them made their way over to the lift, Sam and Naba shouting words of encouragement after them that made Kevin smile. It seated four people, so they had to split up, but Kevin wasn’t going to wait a second longer and went through the gate first. To his dismay, the two people at his heel were not Arnold and Steve. _Great_ , he thought, looking forward to spending ten minutes stuck in the air with Connor and David. 

Connor seemed hesitant as he stood next to Kevin, David sidling up at his other side. They took their seats as the lift arrived and then the silence settled. For at least a minute, nothing but the low, mechanical whirring of the lift filled the air, before Connor spoke up.

“It’s so fucking cold.”

David laughed. “That’s what you chose to focus on? This view is astounding and you’re complaining about the weather.”

Kevin caught himself agreeing with David, and quickly wiped off the smile that had formed on his lips. 

“Well, _entertain me_ , then,” Connor retorted, and Kevin detested the flirtatious tone of his voice.

“With what, _I spy_?” David teased and Kevin couldn’t help but let out an amused scoff that immediately caught Connor’s attention.

“You got something to say?” he snapped, and Kevin shot him an unimpressed look.

“I spy with my little eye,” Kevin taunted, “a shitty attitude.”

David laughed while Connor narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, well, I spy a self-absorbed hypocrite,” Connor spat.

“You forgot to say ‘with my little eye’,” David pointed out and Kevin grinned. 

David wasn’t that bad, as much as he wanted to paint him as the enemy, he really was a good guy. At least when he took Kevin’s side and ganged up on Connor. Because to Kevin, there was nothing better than a sulking Connor sandwiched between his boyfriend and well, whatever Kevin was to him. 

When they got back to the house, Kevin went upstairs to take a shower while the others ordered pizza despite having eaten a mere two hours ago. He had just stepped inside the bathroom when he heard a sharp _WHAT THE HELL_ , followed by footsteps from the floor below. 

“Arnold, did you seriously _steal_ our fucking room?” Connor yelled and Arnold offered some reason that made Connor even louder. 

Kevin smirked to himself, a shitty attitude indeed. 

\--- 

They went to bed rather early that night as everyone was quite exhausted from the long day. Kevin changed into his pajamas in the bathroom and Sam did the same, separately, of course. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt _nervous_. He and Sam had never stayed the night at the other’s apartment, and Kevin had no intention of doing so in the near future, but he wasn’t sure where Sam stood on the subject. She emerged from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts, and Kevin felt relieved she hadn’t put on something a bit more… suggestive. 

“This is so weird, right?” she bubbled when she crawled under the covers, leaving some distance between them. “We’ve been dating for three weeks and now we’re on a skiing trip together.”

“Three weeks tomorrow,” Kevin reflexively pointed out, and the smile she returned made Kevin realize that sounded more romantic than he intended. He didn’t count the days for a reason; he just couldn’t _not_ count them. 

“Hmm,” she hummed distantly before returning her attention to Kevin, “You’re really great, you know that?”

Kevin was slightly surprised by her words, and a part of him felt guiltier than ever. Had Sam said he was great in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have batted an eye, but _this_ , this was intimate. The two of them alone, in bed, _a couple_. Kevin averted his gaze, trying to quieten the vulgar voices in the back of his mind.

“I think you highly overestimate my virtues,” he laughed.

“I don’t know, you’re, different,” she met his eyes with only kindness in hers, “In a good way, though. You don’t push.” 

“Well, I want you to be comfortable,” he said, “And happy.”

Sam watched him for a second and then smiled. “I am.”

Kevin wasn’t sure if that was an invite or if she was just trying to reassure him, but either way, he smiled back before closing his eyes. He could hear Sam shuffling on her side of the bed, and when she spoke a quiet _good night_ he realized she’d turned away. Kevin whispered back and shut his eyes even harder. 

\--- 

_The sky was dark, looming over Kevin’s head as if waiting to strike. Kevin was walking, just walking. Aimlessly wandering forward, unable to turn around despite the feeling that someone was hot at his heel. He tried to focus on a spot in front of him, but his vision was soon clouded by fog as thick as his own ego._

_He didn’t know where he was going, why he was going there, or why he couldn’t – for the love of god – look behind him. Faces began appearing in the sky, and suddenly he felt like Simba seeing his father in the clouds. Only when Simba’s father had told him to remember who he was, it came from a place of kindness, love; when Kevin’s father said it, he repeated the same word, over and over until Kevin wanted to tear his ears off._

Sinner. 

_The word burned his skin. Carved into his wrists, marking him for life. There was no escape; there was no redemption._

_Suddenly, a silhouette appeared at the end of the road. It wasn’t moving, completely still, as if it had been waiting for Kevin. He wanted to pick up his pace but realized he was unable to move any faster. His body was on autopilot. He felt trapped._

_“Kevin.”_

_The figure spoke as he got closer, and Kevin couldn’t quite place the voice, but he knew it. He knew it so well._

_“Kevin.”_

_He was only a few steps away now but whoever was calling his name remained a silhouette. Kevin moved forward until only inches separated them, and features started appearing on the face as Kevin started to put the pieces together. He only knew one person with eyes that shade of blue._

_“Kevin!”_

He jerked upright in the bed, clutching his rapidly beating heart. 

“You’re a heavy sleeper,” Connor said, leaning against the doorframe, “But I already knew that, of course.”

“What time is it?” Kevin flailed, frantically searching for his phone. 

“Just past noon,” Connor said coolly, “The others left an hour ago.” 

“Why didn’t anyone wake me!?” Kevin got up and started toward the door, but Connor held up an arm to keep him from leaving. 

“Sam thought you needed it, she says you complain about poor sleep all the time.” 

“Yeah, well, mornings are the best time to hit the slopes and we’re only here for a week- Can you move, please?” 

Connor dropped his arm to his side, his eyes locked with Kevin’s, as he raised his eyebrows questioningly. Kevin shot him a sarcastic smile and hurried past Connor and down to the kitchen. He grabbed a slice of cold pizza and wolfed down on it as Connor watched him intently. Kevin couldn’t help but wonder why Connor was the one to stay behind, or why anyone had to stay behind for that matter. None of this would have happened if someone had just woken him up sooner. 

He had slept like a log that night, though. The bed might have been the softest he’d ever felt, and the sheets had felt like the mother’s embrace Kevin never experienced. Perhaps the lack of blinds in his window or the incessant traffic outside it weren’t the reason he never seemed to get a full night of sleep at home. Kevin added buying a new mattress to his mental to-do list. 

“Why are you so weird about skiing?” Connor asked after a while and Kevin had almost forgotten he was in the room. 

“I’m not,” Kevin shrugged, “I just like it.”

“No, there’s more, there’s got to be,” he sat down opposite Kevin at the table, an interrogative look in his eyes. “Tell me.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re getting at, Connor,” he sighed, “I like skiing, I never get to do it, therefore I’m going to make the most of this trip. There.”

Connor wasn’t satisfied with the answer, instead, he narrowed his eyes, examining Kevin’s expression. Kevin couldn’t help but stare back. The thought of the two of them being alone in the house sent his thoughts into a spiral of wanting, needing, burning. Connor tilted his head slightly, a look of woe in his eyes that Kevin couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You’re making up for something,” he said then, “You look _haunted_.” 

“Why didn’t you go with the others?” Kevin changed the subject, watching as Connor’s face flushed slightly.

“Well, someone had to stay with you.”

“And that someone had to be _you_?”

Connor smirked then. 

“You love it,” he sneered, making Kevin roll his eyes. “Steve and Arnold wanted to teach the girls how to ski, and I told David to go with them, you know, as a bonding experience.”

“Right,” Kevin said, “It wasn’t at all so you could spend the morning flirting with me.” 

“Morning’s over, Kevin,” Connor challenged, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Kevin shot a quick glance to the clock on the wall and sure enough, twenty minutes had passed during the breakfast Kevin had meant to rush through. He didn’t bother answering Connor’s coquetry, but whether he rushed upstairs to get dressed or back downstairs to get his skis, Connor was intent on following him like a puppy. Kevin tried to ignore him, the piercing eyes burning holes in his back. He came here to ski, not indulge in bad habits. 

Fifteen minutes later, Kevin was in full gear and Connor was not, unsurprisingly. When Kevin told him to hurry so they could leave, Connor had simply responded with an _I’m not skiing today_ , and Kevin thought about asking why not, but bit his tongue and started toward the lifts instead. 

\--- 

Kevin felt invincible. He stared wistfully at the scenery in front of him, the winter wonderland he had always been in love with. The snow felt soft as it landed on his face and the cool air was not biting, no, it was rather embracing. Wrapping him in a hug as cold as his father’s arms, and Kevin couldn’t help but lean into the feeling of _home_. Perhaps that was what Connor had meant when he said that Kevin was making up for something; he was compensating years of frozen affection with the feeling of conquering the cold. 

_No_ , he told himself. Connor was not right. 

It was almost closing time, and Kevin watched the sun as it set in the distance, coloring the sky in beautiful hues of pink and gold. He felt tranquil, like he could be swallowed by the snow and find peace in the darkness. 

“You ready to head down?” Arnold appeared at his side. 

“In a second,” Kevin answered without looking over at him. “I just want to drink it all in.”

“It’s kinda magical, huh?” Kevin could practically hear Arnold’s beam. “It’s like that moment when Lucy first discovers Narnia.” 

“Isn’t that a kids movie?”

“Says the Disney enthusiast.”

Kevin shot him an unamused look but laughed all the same. 

“Come on, I’ll race you down,” Arnold said and didn’t even wait for Kevin’s response before he started down the hill. 

Kevin was not one to ignore a challenge though and set off right after his friend. He caught up quickly, but he let the competitive part of his brain rest for now and focused on savoring the moment. 

Back at the house, they all curled up on the couch to watch a movie. Kevin was – as ever – hesitant to letting Arnold choose since it always ended up being something Kevin had either been forced to watch ten times or something he frankly didn’t want to see. The rest of the group weren’t too keen on watching Kevin’s suggestion – only the best movie ever made, Mulan – either, though, and after an hour-long debate, the familiar yellow title sequence started rolling and Kevin could hear Arnold reciting _A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…_

He sighed deeply, which Arnold responded with a _shh_ that made Kevin roll his eyes. 

A mere five minutes into the movie, he felt someone poking his side and he looked over to see Naba’s equally tired expression. “Let’s do something else,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the people actually enjoying the movie, and Kevin was on his feet before he could respond. 

They snagged a bag of chips from the kitchen and went upstairs. Kevin met Connor’s watchful stare briefly, before climbing up the steps, and couldn’t help but smile to himself. Naba collapsed on her and Arnold’s bed and gestured for Kevin to close the door behind them. 

“I cannot stand watching another minute of that movie,” she groaned before sitting back up. “Arnold ruined Carrie Fisher for me. I fucking loved Carrie Fisher.”

“Tell me about it, he ruined Harrison Ford for me,” Kevin said and Naba laughed. 

“He _is_ kind of hot,” she said, a knowing look on her face that made Kevin look away. “So, how are you enjoying consciously throwing yourself down a mountain every day?” 

Kevin laughed. “It really isn’t as scary as it looks,” he said, “And I’m enjoying it greatly, I think I may have fallen in love with Vermont.”

“This is like your element, I’ve never seen you as happy as when you come down a hill,” she smiled before adding, “Except that night you got ridiculously drunk and made a complete fool of yourself on the dancefloor.” 

“I wasn’t that bad,” Kevin winced in retrospect.

“You performed the cha-cha slide from memory,” she laughed, “During Dancing Queen.”

Kevin groaned. He had made it this far without knowing that detail, he didn’t need to be reminded of any other embarrassing occurrences from that night. Especially not when they always led his mind back to Connor, shirtless and sweaty, breathing heavily in his ear, that _sound_ of Kevin’s name falling off his tongue that haunted Kevin to this day. 

“I didn’t need to know that,” he groaned, “Can we talk about anything other than my less-than-impressive dance moves?”

“Sure,” she laughed, clearly amused by Kevin’s drunken endeavors, “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know, how’s work?” he asked and was met with a tired look. “Or not that,” he paused briefly, pondering over if the words on his tongue were appropriate to voice or if he should keep it to himself. He decided on the former. “Has Sam said anything about, you know, us?” 

Naba’s eyes filled with intrigue then, as she watched him carefully. Kevin already regretted his decision.

“Not much, she doesn’t really like talking about her personal life,” she said after a while, “Why do you ask?”

“I just, I feel like she’s too good. For me,” he stumbled on the words, trying not to let his guilt shine through, “She thinks I’m this amazing person and I feel like a fraud every time she mentions it.” 

“You _are_ an amazing person, Kevin.”

“I’m really not.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Kevin’s words had been soft, almost pleading, and he hated how vulnerable he felt. Naba watched him with a hint of worry in her eyes, scrunching up her forehead as if in thought. She always had a way of making Kevin feel safe enough to voice his problems, which is why Kevin mostly avoided one-on-one time with her. 

“Can I be frank with you?” she asked and when Kevin hesitantly nodded, continued, “I don’t think a lack of character is what makes you feel like a fraud.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious,” she offered a concerned, yet warm smile, “considering he’s sitting right downstairs.”

Kevin instantly averted his eyes. He’d known what was coming, just like he had that night all those weeks ago, yet he wasn’t prepared for it. To hear someone point out his deepest, darkest secret, and not berate him for _feeling_ – be it confused, infatuated, or blasphemous. He wanted to say something, thank her or dispute her words, but he couldn’t get his lips to move. She didn’t push him any further, and Kevin felt grateful, yet unsatisfied. 

He hadn’t had this weight on him before Connor, and Kevin wasn’t sure if it was because he’d never felt for anyone else, the way he felt for Connor. He had been able to accept his sexuality when there wasn’t an imperative to deal with his emotions. When there wasn’t a Connor. 

They sat in silence for a while, and Kevin felt as the panicked thoughts slowly ebbed out and left his mind to rest. He hadn’t denied her claim and Kevin didn’t know if the feeling in his chest was pride or happiness or relief, but it calmed him, if ever so slightly. 

“You’re right,” he said after a moment and Naba returned her focus to him, “I really do love Arnold.”

Naba scowled.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she laughed before turning serious again, “But honestly, Kevin, you _are_ amazing. Regardless of who you’re attracted to.” 

“So, are you mad at me for dating Sam, then?” 

“Let’s just say I’ve tried to talk her out of it,” Naba chuckled, “But, she needs to hear the truth from you, not me.”

When Kevin didn’t answer, she added, “Just promise me you’ll tell her before she gets too invested, God knows she already has.”

“I will,” Kevin promised, hopeful he could keep it, “And I’m sorry.” 

Naba nudged him gently, a small smile on her lips. “Apology accepted.”

\--- 

Kevin couldn’t sleep that night. His conversation with Nabulungi kept replaying in his head and every time he looked over at Sam, soundly asleep beside him, he felt nothing but the need to tell her. It wasn’t fair, Kevin knew that, but the thought of hurting her, the thought of her resenting him for not telling her, it was too much. 

He quietly got out of bed and cursed the creaky floorboards as he made his way to the door. It was past two in the morning, and Kevin couldn’t hear voices from any of the rooms he passed on his way down to the first floor, so he figured they were all sleeping. He plopped down on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chin and forced his eyes shut. 

_Why couldn’t this be normal? Why couldn’t he just be in love with Sam?_

He took a deep breath and pushed the tears burning behind his eyelids as far back as they could go. Kevin Price does not cry, he reminded himself. 

Instead of wallowing in his self-pity, he walked over to the pool table. Arnold had challenged a surprisingly skilled David after the movie ended, and as much as he adored his friend, Arnold could not play pool for shit. Ironically, neither could Kevin. Hell, he’d never even tried before. Sports of any kind had never really been his thing. 

Despite his lack of experience, he picked up a cue and attempted to break the triangle of perfectly arranged pool balls. He steadied himself, aiming at the ball nearest to him and then thrust the cue forward, completely missing the cue ball and somehow managing to jam his elbow into the table. He cursed under his breath, and it wasn’t until a quiet scoff sounded behind him that he realized he wasn’t alone. 

“You need any help with that?” Connor was propped up against the wall and Kevin wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“I’m good,” he turned his focus back to the pool table, intent on not giving up, especially not now that Connor had seen his miserable first attempt. 

When he barely grazed the cue ball, Connor let out a sarcastic _clearly_ that Kevin ignored. 

“You know, I used to be really good at pool,” he said, now standing on the opposite side of the table.

Kevin tried his best at not seeming interested, not giving Connor any attention when answering. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Connor persisted, “My dad taught me.”

“How sentimental.”

“I’m actually kinda surprised you don’t know how to play,” Kevin glanced up at him briefly, which only egged Connor on, “I always considered pool a rich man’s sport.”

This earned Kevin’s full attention, even if he desperately wanted to seem unaffected. He narrowed his eyes at the smirking face in front of him.

“Well, I’m not rich,” he said firmly, and Connor shot back a challenging look.

“Please, your entire being radiates _trust fund_ ,” he taunted, making Kevin scoff, “Or maybe that’s just the god complex.”

Kevin rolled his eyes at that, despite that Connor had struck a nerve with the mention of trust funds, because truth be told, Kevin _did_ have a trust fund. Not anymore, obviously, since he disappointed his parents and were a disgrace to their entire family, but at one point in time, he had had a safety net to fall back on. 

“Did you have a reason to come down here?” he asked, suddenly more vexed than before, “I figured you’d be entertaining David, not me.”

“He’s asleep,” Connor shrugged, “Besides, I don’t see Sam around.” 

Kevin mimicked Connor’s casual expression when saying, “She’s asleep,” which received an amused look from Connor. 

They stood like that for a while, staring blankly at each other and searching the other’s eyes for any clue, any indication all the same. Kevin kept shifting from Connor’s right eye to his left and he noticed a slight difference in shade, making him part his lips ever so slightly, yet not discreetly enough to slip past without Connor noticing. He glanced down to Kevin’s lips for just a fragment of a second, and for some reason, Kevin seemed as observant as Connor tonight. 

Connor dropped his gaze to the table and readjusted the triangle formation that Kevin had finally managed to break, although barely. Kevin watched his hands as he placed the balls inside the rack and lined them up. He grabbed the cue ball and strode over to Kevin’s side, placing it on the table in front of him.

“Let me show you,” he said calmly and moved to stand behind Kevin, placing his arms on top of his in the process. 

“Connor-“

“Shut up.” 

Connor was a good four inches shorter than Kevin, but he managed to prop his chin on top of Kevin’s shoulder, and Kevin shivered when he felt Connor’s breath against his neck. Connor moved their hands, Kevin as his complying marionette, and his fingers burned against his skin. He moved the cue back slowly, a whispered _steady_ soft against Kevin’s ear, before he methodically pushed the cue forward, striking the cue ball right at the center. Kevin had been too preoccupied with trying to ignore Connor’s body pressing against his back to realize the triangle had broken and sent at least one of the balls down a pocket. 

“Oh my god,” he found himself saying, and Connor lingered before letting go of Kevin’s hands and moving to his side. 

“Told you,” he said, a smug grin on his lips.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Kevin quickly retorted, “You just got lucky.”

Connor stopped then, turning his face toward Kevin’s, only inches away.

“I did, didn’t I?” the grin had vanished and if Kevin didn’t know any better, he’d say Connor looked remorseful. His eyes weren’t looking to taunt Kevin until he squirmed, they were gentle, careful, and bittersweet. It wouldn’t take any effort on either behalf to just lean in and capture the other’s lips. It wouldn’t take anything but the courage Kevin desperately craved but regrettably lacked. Connor parted his lips slightly then, and every part of Kevin screamed _yes_ , but Connor didn’t lean in. Instead, he whispered four words that made Kevin’s stomach turn. “Do you regret it?”

When Kevin didn’t answer, Connor clarified, “Us, I mean, that night.”

“No,” there was no trace of hesitation in Kevin’s voice nor his mind, but Connor still kept the distance between them unchanged and Kevin was frantically searching for just a sliver of bravery that would allow him to maybe, hopefully, be honest with himself just this once. 

Connor dropped his gaze then, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “I don’t get you, Kevin.”

“Me neither,” Kevin said, and the wary look on Connor’s face unnerved him. 

“I wish you did,” Connor chuckled quietly, “because I’d like to.”

“What’s stopping you?” Kevin didn’t know how, but suddenly, the urge to feel Connor’s lips against his overpowered the fear of rejection for the mere second it took to tell Connor that _I want this, too_ , in so many words. 

Finally, as every cell in Kevin’s brain exploded and every vein burst wide open, Connor pushed himself forward, arms wrapped around his neck, falling into the kiss as Kevin embraced him. Connor moved so his back was against the pool table, and Kevin lifted him on top of it, standing between Connor’s thighs as he moaned desperately. Connor ran his hand through Kevin’s hair, tugging carefully, sending shivers down Kevin’s spine that he responded with wandering hands, pressing Connor closer, closer. 

“I hate you,” Connor moaned against Kevin’s lips, and when he felt Kevin hesitate, quickly added, “No, don’t stop.”

Kevin could hear the voice in his head spewing vile accusations at him that nearly made him pull back and run away. But he didn’t – he _couldn’t_ – he was hopelessly, desperately, and absolutely starved for Connor’s undivided attention, and nothing could make him throw this moment away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm pumping these chapters out way too fast, but it is just too much fun to write. It's also a great way to ignore the growing pile of assignments I have neglected to start on, so that's fun. 
> 
> The title for this chapter was also just too good an opportunity to pass up on because it works on so many levels. 1) Kevin is haunted, 2) by the kiss Connor (probably) never should have given him, 3) Arnold is a Star Wars baby who would never admit he sorta, kinda doesn't mind the prequels all that much, and 4) I mean, Starkid. Need I say more?
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! This has become my new favorite pastime - one might even say obsession - and also Connor is a pissbaby in most of this chapter, but he's cute so it's okay. 
> 
> Trust me.
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos or comment, or drop by my tumblr, @sprinkleofharries, which has mostly turned into falsettos shitposts lately. Quality content, in other words.


	7. Turn it off

Kevin didn’t have the best track record with discretion, he was not always tactful and however hard he tried to act natural, he simply couldn’t. Not with Connor shooting him starved looks, or exchanging flirty banter that could easily be confused with snarky commentary, or light touches that sent electric shocks throughout Kevin’s body. How they couldn’t keep their hands off each other whenever they got a moment alone, and despite his best efforts of not looking flustered when almost getting caught, he was afraid people were catching on. 

Connor didn’t seem to care. He’d stare right at Kevin while flirting with David, and his eyes would darken with jealousy whenever Kevin did the same with Sam. 

Kevin had never felt more alive. His brain barely functioning when Connor was in the room, relying solely on autopilot, hoping he didn’t speak his thoughts out loud. But there was still a part of him that felt guilty, and whenever he failed to push those feelings away, he’d feel those all too familiar vines wrapping around his throat, suffocating the truth that so desperately wanted to escape his lungs. 

Still, he couldn’t stop. 

Not when Connor had announced he was going to the nearest grocery store and no one had offered to join, so Kevin had – not so – casually volunteered to go with him. And they definitely _did not_ have sex in Naba’s rental car in a secluded part of the parking lot. 

Or when Connor had excused himself to go rest in his room because of a headache shortly after Kevin had gone up to shower, and snuck into Kevin’s bathroom instead while the others had started a game of Monopoly, giving them more than enough time to _definitely not have sex in Kevin’s shower_. 

Or even in the chair lift up to the top of Mt. Ellen right before closing time when no one else wanted to join Kevin for one more lap, so Connor pretended to do the group a favor and go with him and he _definitely did not give Kevin a handjob midair_. 

He couldn’t stop – didn’t _want_ to stop – he just wanted more and more and more or else he might explode. 

\--- 

“Did you ever go skiing back in Utah?” Arnold asked as the lift slowly dragged them up the mountain. 

“Yeah, we’d go over the day at least five times every winter,” he said, that melancholy feeling creeping back up, “Did you go a lot in Idaho?”

“Oh, a bunch,” he smiled, “My parents weren’t the best skiers though, and since I was an only child I usually preferred to go with my cousins.”

Arnold’s family was ridiculously big, with over thirty cousins spread between eight aunts and uncles. Kevin would be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous. His family wasn’t necessarily that small either, but he didn’t hear much from them nowadays, and Arnold still went home for most of the major holidays. His parents had even come to visit him in New York on his last birthday, and although Kevin knew his family would never understand the life he had chosen, he kind of missed them – no, he _really_ missed them. 

The lift came to an abrupt stop then, and Kevin let out a deep sigh before turning to Arnold.

“Have you been to Salt Lake recently?” Kevin asked, wanting to fill the silence before his thoughts could drive him mad.

“Yeah!” Arnold beamed, “I went this summer, one of my cousins got married.”

“You still get invited to weddings?” 

Arnold’s face flushed with a wave of sympathy Kevin could do without. 

“Sorry, I forgot. But, yeah, my family were never that religious anyway. I’m sorry your family are buttheads,” he gave Kevin an encouraging nudge, “I can bring you to the next one if you want.”

“Oh, no thanks,” Kevin chuckled, “I don’t know what my parents would do, what _I_ would do, if I met them. It’s probably best I stay on the east coast.” 

“You know I- I think I met your parents at that wedding,” he said then, his voice careful as if he was worried Kevin would fling himself off the lift, “And Jack, too.”

“Really?” Kevin wasn’t too surprised; weddings were pretty much his family’s only weekend activity. “How were they?”

“They were fine, I guess. Jack seemed excited about becoming a counselor to a mission president in, I think it was someplace in South America.”

“He’s a counselor?” Kevin couldn’t help but feel hurt that he had to find out through Arnold.

“Yeah,” Arnold was still careful with choosing his words, “Apparently he’s been a high priest for a year. He didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since college,” Kevin stared blankly ahead. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry hearing how Jack was on his way to becoming everything Kevin had failed to be. “He wants to be mission president one day, probably. If not for himself, then for dad.”

Arnold watched him in silence for a while, and Kevin began wondering just how long this lift was going to stay still. It must have been at least ten minutes. Perhaps someone had gotten injured, but he didn’t recall seeing any employee snowmobiles. 

When the lift jerked into motion again, Kevin let out a relieved breath, but Arnold was still quiet, fidgeting with his gloves.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kevin shot him a concerned look, “You look worried.”

Arnold opened his mouth to speak, but it took several seconds before any words actually came out.

“Jack got married.”

Kevin stared at him, mouth slightly agape before he forced it shut, clenching his jaw in the process. He looked away, focusing on the carrier in front of them as his head flooded with thoughts. 

Jack hadn’t invited him to the wedding, hadn’t even told him about it. His parents hadn’t called either. Thinking back, he realized he hadn’t spoken to his family since his mother had called him briefly during Easter. He didn’t know if he was more upset that Jack hadn’t told him, or the fact that not being invited made him so _sad_. They were close once, he and Jack. Close enough to talk about anything, to be each other’s comfort in an otherwise uncomfortable home. But then he grew up, his father started to put more and more pressure on him to do well in school, study scriptures, and act the part of the perfect eldest son. 

And then he’d fallen from grace. 

“He mentioned it at my cousin’s wedding and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it then, but you never want to talk about your family and I wasn’t sure you even wanted to know,” Arnold distressed, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m glad you did,” Kevin tried to seem unaffected enough to calm Arnold, “Either way, it’s not your fault.”

“He should have invited you,” Arnold said, “You’re his brother.”

“Well, I’ve got another brother now,” Kevin gave him a gentle nudge and Arnold smiled then, “And I like him much better, anyway.”

\--- 

“No, no, no, _NO_!” 

Kevin couldn’t help but laugh at Sam, who had somehow managed to fall over just standing there.

“These things are the devil’s spawn, I’m sure of it,” she huffed as she tried to stand back up on her skis. 

“You’ll learn,” Kevin smiled as he helped her back on her feet, earning a sharp glance followed by a small giggle in response. 

“Easy for you to say,” she said as she regained balance, “I’m pretty sure you were born with skis on.”

“All Utahns are,” he shrugged jokingly, “Just like everyone from Texas is born with a cowboy hat, right?”

“Mhm,” she laughed, “My first word was _howdy_.”

Kevin had spent the afternoon teaching Sam how to ski after Steve had gotten tired of constantly being overtaken by – according to his claim – literal toddlers. Sam had nearly given up for the day, but Kevin insisted to give her a hand. Mostly just to spite Steve, to be honest.  
It was safe to say that Sam was anything but a natural, falling over every other minute, but she seemed to be enjoying herself either way. They were at the shortest, least steep slope at the entire resort, surrounded mainly by kids with their parents and the occasional adults sharing Sam’s inexperience. Kevin admired her perseverance, and the fact that a slope stretching a mere thirty meters took her about five minutes to get down, Kevin admitted, was quite admirable as well. 

“Can we just call it a day?” Sam whined as Kevin was dragging her along by his ski pole. 

“One more go,” Kevin said as they reached the lift, “Then we can head back.”

Sam reluctantly got on the lift, Kevin right behind her, and Kevin could see how hard she focused on keeping her skis straight so as not to swerve. When they reached the top without Sam falling over once, she was ecstatic, and once Kevin had let go of the drag lift, she threw her arms around him. Kevin was startled, but hugged her back, nonetheless. He was proud, after all, Sam had stepped out of her comfort zone and that is something Kevin recently found more difficult than ever. She pulled back, slowly, and when her eyes met Kevin’s, she leaned in and suddenly their lips were touching and Kevin felt sick. Not because Sam was a bad kisser – not because of Sam at all – but because Kevin was cheating on her as soon as he got the chance. 

Sam pulled back when she realized Kevin hadn’t kissed her back, and the look in her eyes was enough to make the vines tighten around his throat until he felt like gasping for air. She didn’t say anything, just pulled her ski goggles down and started down the slope. 

Kevin couldn’t move. Had he just ruined everything by not kissing her back? Would she connect the dots and realize he was interested in someone taller, someone blue-eyed, someone _male_? Surely, it was just a matter of time until she’d figure everything out before Kevin could find the courage to tell her the truth. He cursed himself for meeting Connor. For liking Connor. Hell, he scorned himself for liking _boys_. What kind of sick joke had God played when he made Kevin find men attractive and then had his parents – his entire community – shove it down his throat that it was a disgusting, sacrilegious thing to feel. 

Kevin was forced back to reality by a loud thud and a sharp shriek following. He nearly gave himself whiplash when turning his head, only to find Sam being helped to her feet next to the lift they had gotten off a mere minute ago, and he didn’t hesitate before making his way down to check on her. 

Sam’s cheeks were flushing when Kevin caught her arm as she regained her balance, bashfully thanking the woman who had aided her after the fall. She avoided Kevin’s eyes until he placed his hands on her arms, holding her in place as gently as he could. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, for once not having to feign concern as he was genuinely worried. 

She nodded, still desperately trying to look anywhere besides Kevin’s face, and he knew he should probably let it go, but for some reason, he couldn’t. He inspected her face carefully before continuing.

“I’m sorry, it’s been a weird day,” he tried, and she met his eyes then, anxiously awaiting an explanation Kevin wasn’t sure existed. 

When Kevin didn’t say anything else, she mumbled out a _because of me?_ that made Kevin’s heart sink. 

“No, of course not,” he offered a smile, “Arnold told me my brother got married.”

She frowned, and Kevin realized she didn’t know he hadn’t spoken to his family in almost a year. 

“I didn’t know,” he said, letting go of Sam’s arms, “He didn’t invite me.”

“Oh,” she said, her face relaxing only to offer a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry.”

Something about the way she was looking at him made him smile. He wasn’t sure what, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn’t quite place washing over him. Sam cared. Words weren’t necessary with her, because somehow, she managed to speak with her eyes, always ready to offer whatever support Kevin might need. The thought made his stomach turn. Here he was, standing in front of the possibly kindest, most thoughtful person he was sure he’d ever meet, and he still had the nerve to lie right in her face. 

Not that he had lied, necessarily, since Arnold _had_ told him Jack got married and he _had not_ been invited. But he knew himself too well to pretend like he wasn’t sidestepping the issue. 

“For what it’s worth, I think he made a terrible mistake,” Sam reached out, touching Kevin’s arm so lightly he couldn’t even feel it through his jacket, but he appreciated the gesture.

\---

Kevin made his way downstairs after his shower, wrapped only in a towel as Naba, Sam, and Arnold had headed out for food and Steve, Connor, and David were still skiing. It was nice, he thought, having the place to himself, if not quiet, but he found himself enjoying the silence for once. Whether it was because he’d avoided spilling the truth to Sam or because Connor had pulled him aside for a quick make-out session mid-forest trail. Somehow, someway, he felt at peace. 

As he reached the first floor he headed straight for the kitchen, hunger plaguing his stomach and he’d spotted some extra tasty looking donuts someone – Arnold – had picked up this morning. But just as he turned the corner, he realized he wasn’t alone after all.

David was leaning over the kitchen island, propped up on his elbows as he flicked through what Kevin could only describe as nonsensical garbage. He glanced up from the magazine briefly but did a double-take when he noticed the lack of clothes on Kevin, and if Kevin didn’t know any better, he’d say David was blushing. 

“I didn’t realize anyone was here,” Kevin blurted out, suddenly extremely self-conscious about his body. 

“I uh, I think I twisted my- uh,” David stammered, “I’m sorry, you’re _fit_ , like, don’t get me wrong, I just- God, I didn’t mean that like how it sounded.” 

Kevin was dumbfounded, had David just complimented him- or even hit on him? The words on his tongue were retreating back down his throat and he felt like choking and throwing up at the same time. Not that David was unattractive, the guy was almost as tall as Kevin and, even though he’d never admit it out loud, his hair always managed to look so effortlessly perfect that it sometimes bothered Kevin more than the fact he was Connor’s boyfriend. But when David’s eyes trailed down Kevin’s body in the way he loved, had it been Connor’s, he felt a bit uneasy. Not only was this extremely uncomfortable, but the absurdity was through the roof.

“You twisted your what?” Kevin asked when David’s eyes had reached a point of no return, Kevin was sure. 

“Oh,” David’s eyes snapped back up to meet Kevin’s, “My ankle.” 

“What happened?”

“Well, I’m not as skilled as you obviously,” his cheeks flushed bright pink, “The black trails had me beat.” 

“Are you alright?” Kevin asked, “Shouldn’t you see a doctor?” 

“Oh, no, gosh,” David let out a nervous laugh, “I’m sure it’s fine, I figured Sam could take a look when she gets back.” 

“Oh, right. I didn’t even think about that.” 

A silence that was beyond awkward settled between them, David’s eyes still exploring Kevin’s exposed chest, if only a bit less discreetly than he probably thought. In response, Kevin took the opportunity to examine David’s face, searching for anything to latch onto that would justify what he and Connor were doing. He didn’t feel nearly as bad as he did around Sam because, for one, he didn’t know David very well, and if he were honest, he didn’t really want to. The wandering eyes were almost a relief, filling Kevin with the hope that David and Connor weren’t _that_ serious anyway so he wouldn’t be too hurt if the truth came out. Right? 

“Should I get you some ice?” Kevin asked when the silence started to eat away at his sanity.

“What?” David’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been burning holes through Kevin’s abdomen. 

“For your ankle,” Kevin clarified.

“Oh, no, I think I can make it to the freezer just fine,” David blushed again, “I’m sorry, I’m staring, I just- Should I leave? I should leave, right?”

David stepped back from the island, ready to sprint pass Kevin at any given moment, or so it seemed. 

“No, no, it’s fine- you’re fine,” Kevin attempted to offer a reassuring smile, “I should probably get changed, anyway.”

David’s eyes lingered before he gave a small nod and returned his focus to the magazine in front of him. Kevin wasn’t sure what to make of it, but turned around to head back upstairs, only to be interrupted by his name. 

“Kevin?” David watched him, scratching the back of his neck as he bit his lip, “Could we like, not tell the others about this? I just, I don’t want Connor getting the wrong idea.”

“Sure,” Kevin said coolly and ignored the guilt filling his chest when David smiled gratefully. 

Irony was a dish best served double-crossed.

\--- 

“Okay, uh, a movie! Two words. Second word, driving? Car! Arnold, bigger gestures aren’t gonna make me- Oh wait, driver? Taxi Driver!”

“YES!” Arnold cheered and high fived Steve as he sat down on the couch. “Connor, you’re up.”

Connor got up with a sigh and picked a note out of the bowl on the living room table. He grimaced as he read it, but put his hands together and started swinging them around in what looked like an imaginary swordfight, and everyone except David, who was wildly trying to guess what on earth Connor was miming, had to use every muscle to keep from laughing. 

“Is it a movie or a book or- what are you _doing_?” David asked, frustrated.

Connor rolled his eyes and made the gesture for movie.

“How many words?”

Connor frowned then and picked the note back up. He was visibly counting the words before holding up eight fingers. 

“What movie has eight words in the title?” 

Connor threw his hands up and glared at Arnold. “How the hell am I supposed to do,” he paused and sardonically cited the note, “ _Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith_ , Arnold? Literally only you would get that.”

“Not if _you_ were my teammate,” Arnold laughed and everyone except Connor seemed amused. 

“Whatever,” Connor huffed, “I’m done with this.”

“Connor, c’mon,” Steve tried, “We’re just teasing.” 

“I don’t care, I’m going out,” he shot Kevin a quick look, before looking over at David, “You want to keep me company?”

“I do,” David smiled apologetically, “But I actually, kind of, want to keep playing.”

“Well, woo-fucking-hoo,” Connor said sarcastically as he turned around. “I’ll just go alone then.”

“I could go for a drink,” the words escaped Kevin’s lips before he could stop them, and Connor turned back with a hungry look in his eyes that Kevin would have mistaken for mockery, had he not known any better. 

“Kevin,” he started, “If I wanted to babysit someone, I’d just bring Steve to a gay bar.”

“You found one around here? Because I am more than happy to go,” Steve grinned. 

Connor clicked his tongue, turning the tired look he’d given Steve toward Kevin, and with a sigh, said, “Fine. But get changed first, you look like literal dogshit.” 

Connor started up the stairs and Kevin excused himself from the group. Sam and David looked confused beyond belief, Steve and Arnold barely paid attention, and Naba shot Kevin a knowing glance before returning her focus to her friends. Kevin felt a pang of guilt stabbing at his chest, but he quickly pressed it back down and hurried after Connor who was waiting outside their rooms. 

“I think I can get dressed on my own, Connor,” Kevin said.

“I’m not so sure,” the corner of his mouth twitched, and Kevin dragged him inside his room, pushing him against the closed door. 

Connor moaned as Kevin explored his mouth, his hands sliding up and down Kevin’s body before landing on the bottom of Kevin’s shirt, tugging it upward. 

“I hate this shirt,” he whispered against Kevin’s lips, “Take it off.” 

“You know, you don’t have to overact your crudity,” Kevin smiled, “They’re gonna catch on if you keep insulting me all the time.”

“Who says I’m acting,” Connor tugged the shirt over Kevin’s head and pushed him toward the bed, “Now let’s make the most of the two minutes we have left before they get suspicious.” 

Five minutes later, they were back downstairs, and Kevin was just about to open the door when Sam sounded behind him. 

“Wait!” she said as she made her way over, “It’s quite a walk so take a cab back, okay? It’s freezing out there and alcohol dilates your blood vessels so you’ll feel like you’re getting warmer but your core temperature actually gets lower due to this and it’s more common than you think to-“

“Sam,” Kevin interrupted her as gently as he could, “We’ll take a cab.” 

She smiled at him, but Kevin could sense her worry. “Good.”

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” he asked unintentionally, hoping to god she’d decline. 

“No, I’m good. Not really in the mood for a night out,” she bubbled, “But you have fun.”

He gave her a quick smile and said goodbye before turning back to Connor, who was impatiently waiting by the door. They were out a moment later and started the walk to the nearest pub. 

“I don’t like wine.”

“Tough luck, we’re sharing.”

“I told you to get me a Vodka Cranberry, not a bottle of red.”

“Only forty-year-old divorced moms who hate their lives drink Vodka Cranberries, Kevin.”

“Seems pretty rich coming from someone who just ordered Merlot at a dive bar.”

“Ha ha.”

“I still don’t like wine, Connor.”

“Just hush, wine makes people sexy,” Connor handed a glass over to Kevin, “And you, Kevin Price, are in desperate need of an aphrodisiac.”

“You just want to get me drunk,” Kevin scoffed but took a sip, nonetheless. 

“Maybe,” Connor clinked their glasses together, “To cheating on your partner.”

“Shut up,” Kevin winced and pulled Connor in for a kiss, trying his best to suppress the guilt for now. 

Four hours later they stumbled back into the house, trying not to wake anyone up, but Kevin was drunk and so was Connor and for some reason all the furniture seemed to have moved because they kept bumping into everything, and apparently it was the funniest thing in the world to Connor when Kevin walked right into the kitchen island. Kevin shut him up with his tongue. 

“Someone could come down,” Connor whispered as he gently pushed Kevin back.

“You don’t care,” Kevin said and captured Connor’s lips again.

“No,” he moved away, “But you do.”

Kevin took a step back then, examining Connor’s face as best he could. His eyes were weary and there was no trace of that eager hunger that Kevin craved, no, he looked tired. Or gloomy. Or maybe just inebriated. Kevin couldn’t tell, and he didn’t know if he could blame it on the alcohol pulsing through his veins, or if he simply did not understand Connor as well as he wanted to. 

Connor didn’t say anything, instead, he walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and then headed over to the couch. Instinctively, Kevin followed. They seemed to do that a lot; if one of them would lead, the other would unquestionably follow. He took a seat next to Connor, who offered him a sip of the water which Kevin declined. Connor leaned back, and Kevin couldn’t help but stare. 

It felt surreal, in a sense, being this close to Connor in complete and utter silence. Most of the time they would make sure not to waste a single moment alone, taking the risk of being caught to extreme measures, but they didn’t seem to care. Neither of them, which surprised Kevin. A part of him was still lurking in the dark alleyways of his brain’s infrastructure, whispering or shouting or shrieking or not saying anything at all, but Kevin always felt its presence. _Sinner_ , it repeated in a voice that sounded an awful lot like his father’s. While another part of his subconscious never stopped replaying the memories of Connor and the urge to be near him, touch him, _feel_ him in any and every way there was. 

But there was a third part of him, a new and uncharted territory Kevin had never known before. It was a much softer, gentler side than Kevin wasn’t used to, and it emerged in moments like these. Moments when the passion had cooled off but neither of them wanted it to be over; when the kisses became slow and the touches tender. Kevin could live in that feeling forever. 

But he didn’t. 

“What did you mean?” the words left Kevin’s mouth before he even realized he wanted to ask. Connor shot him a puzzled look, scrunching up his forehead, waiting for Kevin to elaborate. “When you said I looked haunted.”

Connor tilted his head slightly as he seemed to contemplate Kevin’s question. 

“You look sad,” he said, “A lot.”

Kevin frowned, surely, he didn’t, right? He laughed and smiled and expressed other emotions too, _right_?

“Like that,” Connor spoke again, “You’re always thinking about something, you have to just,” he paused, closing his eyes as if in thought, “Stop thinking.”

Connor was slurring his words and Kevin thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, despite the meaning behind them. 

“You can’t control your thoughts, Connor.”

“Sure, you can,” he leaned back, tilting his head to the ceiling, “I do it all the time.”

“Liar,” Kevin said, “How?”

Connor closed his eyes and hummed for a moment before answering. 

“Just turn it off,” he smiled slightly, turning back to Kevin and reaching out to tap his nose as he made a clicking noise. “That’s how I keep myself from thinking about you all day.”

Kevin scrunched up his forehead, unsure if Connor was being serious or just drunkenly rambling, and if he _was_ serious, what did that mean? _Turning it off_ was hardly the healthiest thing to do when handling unwanted thoughts and feelings. It reminded him of his father’s indifferent face and his mother’s empty embraces. He hated it. 

“I like it when you think about me.”

Connor let out an exasperated sigh. “Then why aren’t we together by now?” he traced his fingers over Kevin’s chest, a dismal look on his face. 

“You have a boyfriend,” Kevin retorted, desperate to steer the conversation away from Kevin’s inability to accept his sexuality. 

Connor met Kevin’s anxious eyes and flashed a melancholy smile. “ _Quand on a pas ce que l’on aime, il faut aimer ce que l’on a_.”

“I don’t speak Chinese, Connor,” Kevin said bluntly, and Connor rolled his eyes, visibly fighting the urge to laugh. “What does it mean?”

“Forget it,” Connor waved his hand dismissively, “Nevermind.”

Connor closed his eyes again and Kevin watched him intently, searching for the answers in Connor’s breathing. He had never needed to know what something meant as bad as he did in that moment. Kevin couldn’t even memorize the sentence, because he didn’t know any French and the words had already slipped his mind either way. He reminded himself to ask Connor when sober because not knowing would simply drive him mad. 

A few minutes went by, Connor breathing deeply as Kevin watched him. Kevin thought he must have fallen asleep and stood up to get a blanket to put over him, but Connor reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could move. 

“Don’t go,” he whispered and for some reason, it broke Kevin’s heart. 

“I won’t,” he whispered back, pulling Connor closer until Kevin was lying on his back and Connor beside him, his head resting on Kevin’s chest, arm draped over his stomach.

The alcohol had started to wear off, and Kevin felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the minute. Connor interlocked their fingers and whispered something Kevin couldn’t quite make out, but he was too tired to ask what he said and if he were honest, too happy to even care. 

\--- 

Kevin was abruptly awoken by somehow falling off the couch and landing on the – thankfully – carpeted floor. As he groaned in pain, he looked up to see a displeased Naba and a squinting Connor, still resting in the spot Kevin had just occupied. Before he could say a word, Naba pulled him off the floor and pushed him down on the other side of the couch, quickly taking a seat between him and Connor who had now moved to an upright position, matching Kevin’s equally shocked, and hungover, stare. 

Kevin opened his mouth to question what on earth was going on, but he stopped himself when he heard Arnold’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. 

“You two look like shit,” he laughed, “Did you sleep down here?” 

Connor was seemingly tongue-tied as his eyes flicked between Arnold and Naba, and Kevin wasn’t exactly too keen on answering himself, what with the throbbing headache he had hoped to avoid. 

“I heard them when they got back,” Naba quickly spoke when neither of the two made any effort to confirm or deny Arnold’s observation. “Both were drunk off their asses, so I’m not surprised.”

Arnold shrugged and moved toward the kitchen as Kevin offered a low _thanks for covering_ that was sharply interrupted by a glare from Naba.

“I’m going to the store,” she announced sternly, “Both of you are coming with me.”

Kevin exchanged a confused look with Connor, whose eyes did little to attempt hiding what was so clearly written on both of their faces. 

“Can we get changed first?” Connor asked, making Naba turn her head toward him. 

“Ask me one more fucking time,” she warned before starting toward the hall.

They didn’t. Kevin had never seen Naba this angry, and to be frank, it scared him, so he got up on his feet to follow her outside, Connor close at his heel. 

The car ride was quiet. Both Kevin and Connor had opted for the backseat as they feared Naba might strangle them, had they been within reach. Kevin glanced over to Connor every so often, but his eyes were glued to the window and Kevin suddenly found himself worrying more about Connor’s wellbeing than he did Naba’s wrath.  
When the car stopped in the parking lot, Kevin took a deep breath and Connor finally tore his eyes away from the window to meet Kevin’s. They weren’t sad, per se, but Kevin could sense his discomfort as he clenched his jaw. It took every muscle in Kevin’s body to restrain from reaching out, placing a reassuring hand on Connor’s arm, but he knew this was probably not the time. 

“Well,” Naba started, watching them in the rearview mirror, “Who the fuck is going to explain why the two of you were sleeping on the couch?”

Kevin averted his gaze. “We were tired-“

“Don’t you _dare_ lie to me, Kevin,” she snarled, turning around in her seat, “How long has this been going on?”

“Not long,” his voice was weaker than he would have hoped, but Naba offered no sympathy.

“I can’t believe this,” she scoffed, and Kevin felt the vines starting to creep around his throat.

Connor hadn’t said a word, his body tense and his eyes fixated on his hands. There was no doubt in Kevin’s mind that he felt bad, felt guilty about it, only in a way slightly different than Kevin did. Because even though they were both being unfaithful and knowingly treating their partners with such disrespect that it made Kevin sick, Connor was at least not lying about his sexuality. Kevin knew that what he felt for Sam was not romantic or sexual or attraction in anything but a platonic way, yet he was stringing her along, hoping that maybe he could learn to love her the way she deserved. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered after a while, and he noticed how Connor’s head moved ever so slightly as if the words had startled him. 

“Are you cheating on Sam?” Naba’s eyes were interrogative and her voice sharp.

“I- I’m trying to- I can’t,” Kevin sputtered, unable to finish his thoughts, much less his sentences. 

“I don’t care what excuses you have, Kevin,” she said, “If you’re cheating on Sam you better tell me right fucking now.”

When Kevin didn’t answer she shook her head in disbelief, her eyes boring into Kevin’s skin like daggers. 

“When I said she needed to hear the truth from you, I didn’t mean she needed to find out that you’re screwing someone else behind her back.”

A quiet scoff caught both Naba’s and Kevin’s attention then, making them turn to look at Connor whose smile was almost sardonic. He lifted his gaze, looking between Naba’s vexed glare and Kevin’s befuddled stare. 

“What the fuck are you smiling for?” the contempt in Naba’s voice unnerved Kevin, still he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Connor, shocked by his sudden uncouth outburst. 

“Oh, get over yourself, Naba,” he rolled his eyes, not helping the situation in any way, shape, or form, “This isn’t about you.” 

“Excuse me?” Naba scoffed, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Connor didn’t respond, he let the sneer on his lips do the talking and Kevin wanted to scream at him to not make this worse than it already was.

“Your boyfriend is back at that house, probably wondering why you didn’t come to bed last night, and you have the _nerve_ to sit here and tell _me_ to get over myself.”

Kevin wanted to fling himself off a cliff, anything to get out of this situation. His mind was racing like a horse on crack and he felt himself spiraling into panic, the thoughts clawing away at the inside of his skull, desperately trying to escape the madness ensuing. He didn’t understand why Connor was being so crass, why he felt the need to poke an already agitated bear, but he found himself tongue-tied and could only watch in horror. 

“How rich,” Naba reproached, “Do you even like David?” 

Connor’s smile faded slightly as he gave her a tired look. Naba ignored it and turned her head back to Kevin, who was still staring at Connor, mouth agape and eyes affright. She was quiet for a moment, and Kevin could feel her watchful eyes piercing his skin. Or perhaps that was the vines, still tightening around his body like a constrictor crushing its prey. 

“Unless you tell them, this ends now,” Naba said then, and Kevin was forced back to reality as he met her eyes, “I don’t care that we’re here for three more days and it might _complicate_ certain things, I will not sit idly by knowing that both of you are lying to people who trust you to be honest with them.” 

Kevin nodded unconsciously, aware that the words had reached his ears, yet unable to fully process their meaning. This wasn’t a dilemma; this wasn’t even a choice. The inevitable would have caught up to them, either way, Kevin knew that. Yet the thought of telling anyone felt like certain death, and Kevin wasn’t ready to meet his maker before he could make sense of his wavering, yet unyielding faith. 

Naba turned back around, opening the car door.

“You’re lucky I was the first one downstairs this morning,” she said before stepping out and starting toward the store. 

They sat in silence for a while after she’d left, Kevin fidgeting with his hands as the thoughts kept quadrupling in his head. It wasn’t until Connor gently placed a hand on Kevin’s that he stopped, meeting Connor’s concerned look with what Kevin could only assume was absolute horror. 

“Hey,” Connor whispered, the softness almost shocking Kevin as he’d been so cold toward Naba just minutes ago. “It’s okay.”

Kevin shook his head. “She’s right, Connor,” the words were heavy as they escaped his throat, and he had to fight the urge to cry right then and there. “We have to tell them.”

Connor watched him for a moment, his eyes examining Kevin’s face as if looking for a different answer than the one Kevin had given. He dropped his gaze to their hands, now interlocked and the scars where the vines had pierced his skin magically healed at Connor’s touch. 

“Okay,” Connor said thoughtfully, “If you want to.”

Kevin knew his eyes were pleading for an easier way out, but nevertheless, Connor didn’t falter. He reached out with his free hand, placing it ever so softly on Kevin’s cheek and brushed his thumb against the burning skin on Kevin’s plagued expression. He was so gentle, so soft, and Kevin didn’t understand how he could be so calm with the impending doom of their secret being, for lack of better words, out of the closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just spent almost an hour trying to come up with a good name for this chapter, but it's 3:30 am and my brain is not working so this will have to do.
> 
> Remember I said I was procrastinating all my assignments in the last chapter? Yeah, that caught up to me real fucking fast so I've barely had any time outside of school and sleep to write, but I managed to get a few hours free to work on this. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you liked it! And as always, thank you so much for reading.


	8. Countdown to the Rest of Our Lives

The room fell eerily silent and Kevin could practically hear the hatred emerging around him. A thousand needles pierced his skin as no one said a word, and as Kevin’s blood stained the carpeted floor beneath his feet, no one was there to save him. This was the end, there was no going back. 

Sam hadn’t said a word, her eyes staring blankly at Kevin and he could see the thoughts swirling inside her brain. Truth be told, he had anticipated much worse. He thought Sam would try to claw his eyes out of their sockets or sip his skin clean off, but she hadn’t moved an inch since she found out. Kevin realized he’d chosen the wrong time and place, but he needed it to be out. He needed it to be over once and for all so he didn’t have to live with the guilt anymore. 

Boy, had he been naïve to think it would make anything feel better. 

“So, I was just,” Sam spoke then, her voice frail and quiet, “I was just a toy to you? A joke?”

“No,” Kevin knew he was pleading, his words needy and his eyes begging. “No, of course not, I-“ 

“I’m such an idiot.”

“Sam-“

“This is why I don’t date younger guys,” she shook her head, a sad laugh escaping her lips, “I can’t be here right now.”

Kevin wanted to stop her from leaving, but he found himself frozen to the ground and before he knew it, she was out the door. Naba quickly followed, paying Kevin no attention and he didn’t blame her. Everything was just so _wrong_. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna take off too,” David’s voice interrupted Kevin’s pity party and he realized he hadn’t just outed himself to Sam, he’d revealed Connor’s infidelity as well. 

Connor didn’t bat an eye, his eyes fixed on Kevin’s who begged him to turn back time and make everything alright again. The tears were burning behind his eyelids and he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to force them back this time. 

Once David had started up the stairs, Steve looked over at the two of them, his eyes clouded with feelings Kevin didn’t know Steve even had the capacity to show. 

“I know it’s not my place to say but,” he said, “Not cool, guys.”

The words were simple, yet they cut like barbed wire through Kevin’s head. 

Steve followed David upstairs, leaving only Arnold who hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from Kevin this whole time. The look on his face was enough to break Kevin into a million pieces; he could live with the others hating him, but not _Arnold_. 

“Arnold, I’m sorry,” he whispered but Arnold didn’t answer. 

He finally dropped his gaze and without a word, he was through the door and Kevin couldn’t take it anymore. A tear threatened to escape his eye and he cursed under his breath, digging his nails into the palms of his hands to channel the pain and stop him from crying. He hadn’t noticed when Connor had moved beside him, or when he’d grabbed Kevin’s hands to stop him from hurting himself more. He hadn’t noticed that his nails had pierced the skin on his hand or the few drops of blood trickle down his fingers. He hadn’t noticed, but Connor did, and he wasn’t sure why Connor was so collected but when he pulled Kevin in for a hug; when he whispered _you’re okay_ against Kevin’s shoulder, it didn’t matter. 

\--- 

Kevin cursed when the sunlight forced its way through his eyelids. He still hadn’t fixed those godforsaken blinds but to be honest, they were the last thing on Kevin’s mind at the moment. He turned around, pushing his face into his pillow as he groaned.

“Morning,” a voice startled him, and his head snapped up before Connor had even finished the word. 

“How long have you been awake?” Kevin ran a hand through his hair, aware that it didn’t look nearly as nice as David’s probably did in the morning, and he was immediately struck with guilt at the thought of his and Connor’s affair. 

“Not long,” Connor traced his fingers over Kevin’s bare chest, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Kevin smiled, catching Connor’s hand in his own and intertwining their fingers. He hadn’t been able to sleep much since the whole Vermont debacle when he’d told Sam in front of everyone that he’d been sleeping with Connor, that he _liked_ Connor, and in the process hurt everyone he cared about most. The guilt was keeping him up, anxiety-induced dreams forcing him to wake up a sweaty mess several times a night. 

But Connor was still here. Connor was still holding him when the vicious thoughts came creeping and when the vines tightened around his neck. His hands trailing along the parts where invisible scars covered his skin, his voice a calm hum lulling him back to sleep. Kevin felt safe in Connor’s presence; like he didn’t have to hide or feel ashamed of who he was, and he latched onto the feeling of security he never even knew he missed for dear life.

He knew his friends hadn’t abandoned him either. He knew that Arnold was worried out of his mind because Kevin hadn’t responded to his texts for days and that Naba didn’t blame him for more than his unfaithfulness. Yet, he was not ready to meet their judgmental eyes and explain just how he could’ve been so _stupid_. He wasn’t ready and he didn’t know if he would ever be, really. 

“Any nightmares tonight?” Connor asked as if reading his mind and Kevin chuckled quietly.

“Only always.”

Connor watched him for a moment, and the worry in his eyes calmed Kevin in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He let his eyes wander over Connor’s body, his pale skin glowing in the morning light and his freckles barely visible. Kevin loved every inch of him, craved every curve, every edge, every nook and cranny – whatever he could lay his eyes on. Though his brain was still conflicted he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten so lucky. 

“Was I in it?” Connor asked after a while, and Kevin shook his head to the best of his ability lying down. 

If anything, Connor was a pipe dream Kevin never wanted to wake up from. 

They lay in silence for a while. Kevin closed his eyes and pulled Connor closer until he could feel Connor’s breath against his skin. His touches were soft as he ran his fingers up and down Kevin’s arm, sending shivers all through his body. It felt too good to be true, and Kevin had to open his eyes again to make sure he wasn’t imagining Connor’s presence. 

But he wasn’t. It was real, _thank god it was real_. Connor met his look and leaned in for a kiss so soft it barely registered in Kevin’s mind. 

“You know, I talked to Naba last night,” Connor said, his lips brushing against Kevin’s as he spoke.

Kevin sighed, rolling over to lie on his back. “I know what you’re going to say.” _You have to talk to them, Kevin. They don’t hate you, Kevin._

“They miss you.” 

_Or that._

“I’m not ready,” he whispered.

Connor propped himself up on his elbow next to him. “They’re not mad.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Kevin,“

“Why wouldn’t they be mad? I was awful to Sam; I’ve ruined our friend group because there’s no way she’ll want to see me ever again. They have every right to be mad.” 

Connor watched him, a concerned look in his eyes that made Kevin feel even worse because all he wanted to do was pull him in closer and never let go and that is exactly the reason things were as bad as they were. If he’d only done that from the beginning, or not wanted to at all, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have dated Sam in a desperate attempt at fooling himself into heteronormativity, he wouldn’t have craved Connor’s attention whenever he’d directed it elsewhere. All of this could have been avoided if he’d only thought it through beforehand, instead of diving into the deep end headfirst. 

“Sam will forgive you someday, you know,” Connor said, “She’s not one to hold a grudge.”

When Kevin groaned in response and turned away like a cranky five-year-old, Connor laughed and rolled him back on his back as he straddled his hips. The sun pouring in illuminated his body, his red curls glowing in the morning light and Kevin made sure to take a mental screenshot because he’d never seen such beauty in a person before, and he wanted to etch it into his memory.

“Fine, we’ll talk about something else,” Connor said, his hands soft against Kevin’s chest as Kevin shot him an expectant look, “Who was your first movie crush?”

“Really? That’s what you want to talk about?” Kevin scoffed playfully; glad the conversation was headed another direction than his spiraling sanity. 

“Humor me.”

Kevin sighed as Connor watched him think. “Nala,” he said after a moment, but Connor’s face was unimpressed. 

“From Lion King?” he challenged, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

“What?” Kevin laughed, “The _can you feel the love_ scene really stuck with me.” 

“Mhm,” Connor persisted, and Kevin rolled his eyes. 

“Fine,” he said, “Simba. There, you happy?”

Connor smirked, “I mean it’s still an animated lion, but I guess I’ll take it.” 

“Who was yours then? If mine was so shit,” Kevin laughed, giving Connor a playful shove. 

“Jack Kelly,” there was so hesitation in his voice and Kevin frowned. 

“Who?”

Connor tutted dramatically, “You wound me, Kevin.” 

“What?” he laughed, “That is the most generic name, how am I supposed to know who he is?”

“And you call yourself a Disney enthusiast.”

“ _I_ don’t call me that, Arnold does,” Kevin countered, “Besides, I’m fairly certain there’s no Disney character by the name Jack Kelly.”

“Oh, I am more than happy to prove you wrong,” Connor said, reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand.

But Kevin didn’t care about movie crushes anymore. Not when Connor was on top of him, every movement leaving his body wanting more and more and more. The way he watched Kevin’s lips instead of his eyes when he spoke, the wandering hands unconsciously exploring Kevin’s chest while he listened. Kevin didn’t want to wait another second, pulling Connor closer to his body and inadvertently bucking his hips at the touch.

“You could do that,” he said, noticing a smirk flashing on Connor’s lips as he put the phone back down, “Or…”

Connor leaned down, barely an inch left between them as he intertwined their hands on either side of Kevin’s head. “Or what?” he asked, hovering his lips over Kevin’s and every second that passed felt like an eternity. 

“Kiss me,” he whispered, and Connor finally closed the distance between them, pressing himself into Kevin as their bodies molded into one, moving rhythmically, harmoniously, in unison. 

It was hot. It was sweet. It was everything Kevin had imagined, and he wanted to stay in this moment – entangled with Connor, heavy breaths exchanging fleeting promises, the feeling of caving and conquering and connecting every loose end with someone else’s – forever. 

\--- 

It was Kevin’s first day back at the office after their Vermont trip, and he still hadn’t responded to any of Arnold’s texts. Needless to say, he felt beyond bad, but he wanted to get his thoughts straight – regardless of the unfortunate phrasing – before he could explain the course of his actions to anyone. Though admittedly, he felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he hurried up the staircase knowing Arnold usually took the elevator up.

Nothing had changed on the seventh floor. His colleagues were still greeting him with their high-and-mighty smiles, watching him like prey, but at least the familiarity was comforting. The office was emptier than usual, as most people had taken time off around the holidays, but there were still enough people to keep the place running. Christina made sure of that, and Kevin wanted to complain about having to work tomorrow – _on New Year’s Eve_ – but he’d gotten an entire week off over Christmas, so he reckoned he had no reason to be surprised. 

He plopped down in his chair a few minutes early, ready to start working immediately but stopped himself when he noticed his desk. Papers and files weren’t as neatly stacked away in the letter tray as when he’d left, there was a pen _just laying there_ that Kevin was more than certain he had placed in the pencil holder. He couldn’t work like this, even if no one would have considered it a mess, it was to Kevin. Kevin liked order, maybe now more than ever. 

“So, how was Vermont?” May asked, taking a seat opposite Kevin in the otherwise empty breakroom. 

“Amazing,” he smiled, before quickly remembering the chaotic ending, “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” she said, “Jenny got sacked.”

Kevin frowned; Jenny was one of the people who had been here the longest as far as he knew. 

“Really? Why?”

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me but,” she said, gesturing drinking with her hand, “she had a bit of a problem, let’s just say.” 

“Oh my god, I had no idea,” Kevin realized halfway through the sentence that _of course he had no idea_ , he didn’t really know _any_ of these people. “Is she okay?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” May shrugged, “I don’t exactly keep tabs on the people around here.”

That was true. May had the same approach as Kevin when it came to keeping her work and private life separate, which was one of the things Kevin admired most about her. Yet Kevin couldn’t help but feel bad. A woman battling alcoholism had been fired for seemingly no other reason than her aforementioned addiction, and May seemed completely unaffected. 

He didn’t blame her though, he’d never actually spoken to Jenny, but he remembered she used to look at him with the same derisive glare that the rest of his coworkers did. Perhaps he didn’t care about her either. 

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud, obnoxious laugh that felt like nails on a blackboard to him. 

“Kevin Price!” Andrew exclaimed as he walked through the door with Marius in tow. “Glad to see you survived your ski trip without any broken bones.”

The snide tone of his voice made Kevin believe he meant nothing but the opposite. Yet he offered a polite laugh.

“You started on your report yet?” Marius asked as he took a seat next to a clearly annoyed May. 

“Yeah, I’ll have it ready by the end of the day.” The promise was empty, yet not as empty as Marius’ smile. 

“Perfect.”

The conversation derailed fairly soon, Andrew and Marius talking about something that neither Kevin nor May had any sort of interest in and having to listen for even a second longer felt like torture to Kevin. He exchanged a brief look with May, and soon the both of them were on their feet ready to leave. 

“Oh, Kevin,” Andrew’s voice stopped him halfway through the door. “Since you were gone for so long someone had to follow-up on Roberts. I hope you don’t mind me taking over the account from now on.”

Kevin didn’t turn around. The Roberts case had been Kevin’s first account and he had done a damn good job if he could say so himself. And he did say so himself, because Christina had told him that being humble would lead him nowhere, and he knew better than to let his insecurity keep him from climbing the ladder. So. the fact that Andrew had taken the first chance he got to nick Kevin’s first real client and take the credit for himself, irked Kevin to the very core. 

“Not at all,” he said through gritted teeth.

Two can play at that game. 

\--- 

Kevin was on his way through the front door when a voice startled him. He didn’t have to turn around to see who was calling on him, and soon Arnold was stood by his side. Kevin stepped outside, with Arnold in tow and his mind was racing in a desperate attempt to make up an excuse. 

“How are you?” Arnold interrupted his thoughts, “You kinda went radio silent after we came back from Vermont.”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin admitted, knowing he’d have to talk to Arnold sooner or later, and alas, it turned out to be the former. 

“Hey, I’m just worried about you,” Arnold offered a smile that broke Kevin’s heart. 

They walked in silence for a while. Kevin was searching for the right words to tell his friend, but his brain felt as empty as his father’s eyes. There was a comfort in the situation, though. A strange sort of unspoken forgiveness from both parts and Kevin wondered why on earth Arnold felt he had anything to apologize for. It was Kevin who fucked up. It was Kevin who cheated on his girlfriend with another man. It was Kevin who couldn’t utter the explanation everyone expected because somewhere in the back of his head there was that voice, whispering faint promises of Kevin’s eternal damnation. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Arnold said when they’d pushed their way onto a far too crowded subway train. “We don’t have to, but you know you can talk to me, if you want.”

“Not here,” Kevin said quietly, feeling the intruding eyes around him burning his skin and sharp elbows poking holes in his back. 

“Okay,” Arnold nodded, “Not here.”

Arnold didn’t live necessarily close to Kevin. In fact, they weren’t even on the same subway line, yet Arnold hadn’t hesitated following Kevin when he stepped onto his train, and soon they were stood outside Kevin’s apartment and it seemed neither of them knew what to do next. 

“Do you wanna come up?” Kevin asked dumbly, feeling like he’d just been on the most awkward date and offering an empty invitation that he hoped the other would decline. 

Arnold didn’t, though. Of course, he didn’t, and Kevin found himself sat next to his friend on the couch, still racking his brain for answers he thought Arnold might be looking for. The thoughts were snowballing in his head, making him pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the pain. 

“So, do you want to talk about it now?” 

Kevin did not. Kevin wanted to avoid the gigantic, freckled elephant in the room that was his undeniable attraction toward a less gigantic, more freckled Connor McKinley. Not that he was embarrassed about liking Connor, he was just ashamed of how he went about the whole ordeal. How he treated both Sam and David, but especially Sam. How he ignored Naba’s warning looks when he’d stared at Connor for a little too long in Vermont. How he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, yet as soon as he was about to voice them, they tumbled back down his throat, blocking his airways in the process. Kevin couldn’t breathe. 

“Hey,” Arnold placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder when he noticed the heaving. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

Kevin wanted to scream and cry and laugh at the same time yet the only thing he managed to do was close his eyes and pray for everything to stop. Just for a second. 

“I can leave if you want.”

Kevin shook his head, surprised by the knee jerk reaction that clearly meant he wanted Arnold to stay. He wanted Arnold to know and he wanted him to say it so Kevin didn’t have to. 

“Okay,” Arnold said instead, “I’ll stay- Hey, I’m right here. I’m not leaving, Kev.”

He hadn’t realized he was clinging onto Arnold for dear life now, his eyes leaving wet stains on Arnold’s shoulder as he cried. Kevin hadn’t realized he was crying now, either, but it felt good and Arnold was rubbing his back trying to calm him down even though Kevin knew he was uncomfortable. 

Kevin felt the urge to tell Arnold he loved him, but his tongue was tied in a thousand knots and he was afraid he might swallow it if he tried to speak. 

After what felt to Kevin like a millisecond and a lifetime simultaneously, he stopped crying. Immediately struck with the realization that maybe Kevin Price _did_ cry, and he wanted to rip his eyeballs out and grind them to dust. Arnold was watching him carefully as he pulled away, drying his eyes with his sleeves and snorting a laugh that was more snot than air and he felt disgusted in ways he couldn’t explain. 

“That was weird,” he said, the smile on his face felt out of place yet just right. 

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” Arnold was smiling too, “I wasn’t sure you knew how.”

Kevin laughed then. He wasn’t sure he knew how, either, and apparently, he turned into a horrific mess of tears and snot and open mouth breathing. 

“I haven’t cried since I was fourteen,” he admitted, “It felt good.”

Arnold smiled sadly, like he had just watched Han respond to Leia’s _I love you_ with an _I know_ before being encased in carbonite. Surprisingly, Kevin didn’t hate that he’d inadvertently made a Star Wars reference. 

“That’s a long time,” Arnold said, “Are you okay?”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t think I am, no.”

Arnold was quiet for a few moments, fidgeting with his fingers like he did when actually thinking through his words before speaking them. Kevin waited patiently. He thought that maybe, hopefully, he was somewhere near ready enough to be honest with his best friend. 

“Can I ask you something?” Arnold said hesitantly and Kevin nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

The last word hit Kevin harder than he’d expected, and he could feel the question being etched into his skin, puncturing veins that might cause Kevin to bleed out. 

Except he didn’t. 

“If you are, I mean,” Arnold quickly added. 

“I don’t think- I thought I knew,” Kevin felt clumsy, tripping over his own tongue, “I mean, I knew until I had to face it for real. And then I couldn’t.” 

“Because of the Church, you think?” 

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry,” Arnold looked down at his hands and Kevin frowned. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Arn,” he offered, “I’m the one who should be apologizing.” 

Arnold looked up again, meeting Kevin’s eyes with the same melancholy feeling that was dwelling in Kevin’s chest. He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it shortly after with a sigh Kevin barely noticed. 

“I am sorry,” Kevin said when Arnold didn’t say anything, “I really am.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you about Sam,” he shook his head, “You said I shouldn’t and I kept insisting and I didn’t know you were- I should have realized that night we went out and you were so happy that Connor was there. I’m sorry for being so oblivious.” 

Kevin couldn’t help but smile. Arnold _was_ oblivious, to a lot of things, really, but Kevin would never blame him for it. 

“And I should have told you from the start,” he said, and Arnold nodded slowly, seemingly in thought, before his face lit up and he beamed at Kevin. 

“This means we can still go on double dates,” he smiled, and Kevin laughed. 

Arnold was a good friend. In fact, Arnold was the best friend Kevin could ever ask for, and he wondered just why Arnold had decided that Kevin was the most important person in his life – besides Nabulungi, of course – but found that the answer didn’t matter. Kevin was Arnold’s best friend and Arnold was Kevin’s. He didn’t need an explanation or a reason as to _why_ so long as it never changed. 

\--- 

Connor was beaming with happiness when Kevin opened the door to let him in, biting his lip in a failed attempt to hide his enthusiasm. 

“What are you smiling about?” Kevin narrowed his eyes but laughed all the same. “You look insane.”

Connor hummed gleefully as he walked past Kevin and plopped down on the couch, and Kevin followed suit without thinking.

“A little bird told me you had a heart to heart with your best friend today.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “So, nothing I do stays private anymore, huh?”

Connor didn’t answer, instead, he leaned forward and captured Kevin’s lips in a short, sweet, and utterly breathtaking kiss that left Kevin feeling dizzy once Connor pulled away. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, cupping Kevin’s face in his hands. 

Kevin averted his eyes, feeling embarrassed over how he’d completely broken down in Arnold’s company before. How he’d _cried_ for the first time in ten years. Kevin Price didn’t cry. 

Except he did, now. 

Connor watched him for a moment, before bouncing up to sit on Kevin’s lap, his legs on either side of Kevin’s as he forced Kevin to meet his eyes again. 

“I know how difficult that was for you,” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of Kevin’s eyes. “But you did it, and it didn’t change anything, right?” 

Kevin shook his head, suddenly finding himself unable to speak. 

“Arnold didn’t run away screaming, did he?”

Kevin shook his head again. 

“He still loves you and wants you to be happy.”

Kevin nodded. “I cried,” his voice came out a whisper.

Connor cocked his head to one side. “Good or bad?”

“Good,” Kevin said. “I think.”

Connor smiled for a moment, before dropping his gaze and biting his lip. Kevin watched his every move. The way his eyes fixated on one of Kevin’s shirt buttons. The way he wasn’t exactly chewing on his lip, but rather rubbing it between his teeth. The way he scrunched up his forehead so faintly that barely one wrinkle emerged. Kevin wanted to ask what Connor was thinking about but stopped himself when Connor looked back up. 

“I went to a conversion camp, you know,” he said, and Kevin’s eyes widened. 

“You were Mormon?” Kevin asked to which Connor nodded. “You never said.” 

“You never asked.” 

Kevin felt a pang of guilt despite the understanding smile on Connor’s face. He had never thought to ask because it wasn’t a thing they ever really talked about. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Connor shook his head. 

“Don’t be. I don’t like to talk about it.” 

Kevin wasn’t sure what to say. Connor had brought it up but Kevin didn’t want him to feel like he had to tell him. The Church was a sore spot for Kevin, so why wouldn’t it be for Connor, too? 

“You don’t have to,” he offered. 

“I know,” Connor paused, “But I want to. With you.” 

Kevin didn’t answer. Instead, he took Connor’s hands in his own and intertwined their fingers in what he hoped communicated _I’m listening_ and not _please don’t_. 

Connor didn’t seem disheartened, though, and took a deep breath as he gathered himself. 

“Okay. So, when I was eleven, my mom came into my room when I was kissing Steve – yes, _that_ Steve – and I had never seen her that angry before. I thought she might kill me right then and there,” he started, and Kevin watched him watch their interlocked hands. “I wasn’t allowed to have friends over after that, especially not male ones. I wasn’t even allowed to close my door. Ever. Not to sleep, or to study, or to cry. I had nowhere to hide anymore.” 

Kevin noticed Connor’s jaw twitch slightly and squeezed Connor’s hand a bit tighter in solidarity. 

“They sent me to conversion camp that summer, and the five summers after that, even though I _swore_ I wasn’t having those thoughts anymore. They didn’t believe me,” Connor shook his head with a sad smile on his face. Kevin’s heart sank like a stone. 

“So, I did everything to stop myself from being interested in boys, I shut down every thought, every fantasy. Until eventually, I didn’t feel anything. At all. I was numb.” 

Connor glanced up, and Kevin could feel the hurt in his eyes. 

“Then I turned nineteen,” he continued, “I started my mission training and I got assigned a mission partner – Elder Thomas – and I realized, for the first time in years, that I was having, well, more than friendly feelings for him, so I took off.”

“A week before we were leaving for Uganda. I was going to be district leader and everything,” he chuckled quietly. “I spent a few weeks couch-surfing wherever someone would take me in, before I returned home and told my parents I wanted to go to college instead of my mission.”

Kevin watched him expectantly. He hadn’t said anything yet, and he wasn’t really sure when to cut in, if at all, so he stayed silent as Connor swallowed hard. 

“They kicked me out,” he said coolly, dropping his gaze for a brief moment as Kevin searched for the right thing to say. 

He didn’t find it. 

“Luckily, I had already gotten accepted at U of I, thanks to my guidance counselor pretty much forcing me to at least apply, _just in case_. I worked shitty jobs to pay and took out more loans than I'll ever be able to afford for tuition and I slept at school or work until someone would kick me out. Some nights I didn’t sleep at all.” 

“Oh,” Kevin said without realizing, and Connor’s eyes flicked up for a second before he continued. 

“But then I met Steve again, my second semester, and he- well, he saved my life,” Connor shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his own words. “I was so tired and depressed and so close to just, I don’t know, give up. Or freeze to death on the street. But he let me stay with his family. His parents treated me like their own son and I-“ 

Connor’s voice broke as he pressed his eyes shut. Kevin wanted to tell him not to turn it off. To never turn it off again. But he knew what repressed feelings could do to you, he knew all too well, and he hoped Connor didn’t feel as if his skin was being sliced open by thorny vines. 

“They didn’t care that I was Mormon, or gay, or that I had completely lost faith in God,” his voice trembled. “They didn’t let my past define me; they treated me like a human being.” 

Connor opened his eyes again, meeting Kevin’s concerned, if not heartbroken, look, and the next words he spoke came out a whisper that almost made Kevin cry.

“I had forgotten what that felt like.”

With that, Kevin pulled him as close to him as he possibly could, and he could feel the fabric on his shoulder get damp just like he’d done to Arnold’s shirt earlier. He held onto Connor for dear life, berating himself for never realizing just how broken Connor had been, or God forbid, still was. 

Connor was a quiet crier, and Kevin wondered if Connor not being allowed to close his door was the reason.

\--- 

Kevin was hard at work when Christina appeared beside him, barely registering her voice as he finished his latest report. 

“Price?” Christina repeated herself which forced Kevin to look up at her. “Your shift ended two hours ago.”

He glanced at the clock on his computer. 8:13. _Fuck_ , he was late. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize.”

Christina scoffed amusedly. “Don’t apologize to me, voluntary overtime is not included in your paycheck, though.”

“I know,” he said as he turned his computer off and placed the casefile delicately in the letter tray. 

Christina watched him organizing his desk, lining the mouse pad up with his keyboard, placing a stray pen back in its rightful place, and brushing a few crumbs from his lunch into his hand and emptying it in the bin beneath his desk. He stood up, pushing the chair in but leaving an inch between the back and the desk. Christina narrowed her eyes when he looked back at her, but she didn’t say anything.

“I have to go,” Kevin said, unsure if his boss wanted anything else from him. “I’m late.”

“Of course,” she smiled smugly, “Just remember I need you in at nine tomorrow, so I’d go easy on the booze.”

Kevin nodded, and Christina gestured his dismissal. He darted over to the elevator, too impatient to wait so instead he decided to run down the stairs. 

Connor wanted to celebrate New Year’s with their friends. With Steve and Arnold and Naba, and Kevin wasn’t sure, but possibly Sam, too. He had told Connor he’d rather just stay in, watch a movie and cuddle up on the sofa, but Connor had given him a bored look and convinced him with lips. But now, when he was rushing over to Steve’s apartment where the party was in full swing, he felt reluctant to go. 

Maybe Kevin’s overtime hadn’t been as accidental as he thought. 

Twenty minutes later he was letting himself into Steve’s place, and the music hitting him was deafening. Kevin could smell the alcohol through the door and suddenly he remembered Jenny from work, immediately struck with a feeling resembling sympathy. 

Kevin tried to fit his jacket on the already full coatrack and kicked off his shoes before steadying himself enough not to pass out from his nerves. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to be literally anywhere else and he’d be lying if he said the thought of leaving without so much as a hello didn’t cross his mind. 

But he didn’t. Connor was here and Kevin wanted to be where Connor was. He took a deep breath as he made his way to the living room, slightly surprised by how many people were actually there. 

Connor flew up from where he was sitting on the couch and made a beeline toward Kevin that ended with Kevin having to catch him because Connor had clearly been drinking, and Connor was a clumsy drunk. He couldn’t help but smile, though. Especially when Connor hiccupped an _I missed you_ and planted a kiss that mostly tasted like vodka on Kevin’s lips. 

“It’s not even nine o’clock yet, babe,” Kevin smiled against Connor’s lips. “At this rate, you’ll be passed out by midnight.” 

Connor didn’t care about Kevin’s attempted advice, instead, he kissed Kevin harder and whispered, “You’ve never called me babe before.” 

Kevin blushed, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he never _had_ called Connor babe before and hadn’t intended on doing it now, or if it was because Connor’s hands were wandering down his body and there were _like fifteen people watching them_. 

“Easy,” he laughed, and Connor finally gave in, leading him by back toward the couch. 

Arnold beamed when Kevin took a seat next to him, and he nearly spit his drink out when Connor decided Kevin’s lap was a better place to sit than the couch. Naba smiled at him, and he smiled back but found he couldn’t quite meet her eyes, afraid of what judgment they would carry. He made a mental note to talk to her later. Or avoid talking to her. He hadn’t decided yet. 

He greeted a couple of people he hadn’t met before and soon realized Sam wasn’t there. A wave of relief washed over him, but the gnawing feeling of guilt was ever-present, nonetheless. 

“Never have I ever had sex in a public place.” 

Kevin hadn’t noticed when the loud, scattered conversations had turned in to a single game of never have I ever, and if he didn’t like sharing bits and pieces of his life normally, he definitely didn’t like it in front of people he didn’t know. 

“You have to drink, babe,” Connor tried to whisper in his ear, only drunk Connor couldn’t keep his voice down if his life depended on it, “Or have you forgotten that time we were in Naba’s car and I fucked you senseless-“

“ _Connor_ ,” Kevin cut him off as every head turned their way. 

“Oops,” Connor said, and the irony of his voice being lower now than before was not the slightest bit amusing to Kevin. 

“You did _what_ in my car?”

“Rental car, technically,” Connor shrugged. 

“Oh, _now_ you care about specifics,” Naba said and Kevin got flashbacks to their talk in Vermont in that same car. 

But Naba didn’t scorn them. She didn’t yell or deride, no, she laughed. And so did Arnold, and Steve, and most of the people Kevin didn’t bother to fixate on. He didn’t like his sex life being the butt of any joke, but he’d take it over being called out on his actions.

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” someone said, interrupting Kevin’s thoughts as he watched who took a sip and who didn’t. 

Connor exchanged a look with Steve before they both drank and Kevin’s grip on Connor’s body tightened, the jealousy surprising him because it didn’t matter. Kevin knew Connor had dated Steve. Kevin knew Steve had been Connor’s only friend at the lowest point in his life. Kevin knew Steve genuinely cared about Connor, and not in a way Kevin should find intimidating. But he couldn’t help himself. 

“You had a threesome?” he asked Connor quietly, trying his best to keep the conversation between the two of them. 

“Mhm,” Connor hummed, turning to meet Kevin’s eyes. “I’ll show you how good I am at multitasking later.” 

Kevin didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t want to have a threesome if that was what Connor was suggesting. He didn’t want anyone else to hold Connor like he did, kiss Connor like he did. He didn’t want to share, and Connor must have picked up on his confusion because he leaned in and not-whispered in Kevin’s ear. 

_“Not like that. Just you and me.”_

The game continued for far too long, had you asked Kevin, and the hours felt twice as long as usual as he awaited midnight so he could go home. Connor hadn’t heeded Kevin’s advice and was slumped down on the couch, snoring soundlessly in what Kevin thought might be the cutest thing he’d ever seen. 

He found Naba on Steve’s balcony, leaning on the railing as she watched some clearly drunk people stumble forward on the street below them. Kevin knew he had to talk to her, and even though his brain was telling him _it can wait_ he found himself joining her outside, the cool air a welcome sensation as Steve’s cramped living room had turned into somewhat of a sauna. 

“Hey,” he said when she glanced to see who had joined her. 

“Hey,” she answered, a small smile on her lips. 

“Arnold just bet his firstborn on a game of beer pong. Hope you don’t mind naming them _Longdick McNugget_.”

Naba laughed. “Arnold has no say in that matter anyway. His top choice is Chewie, and that’s without the alcohol _or_ a bet.” 

“Jesus,” Kevin smiled. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Naba turned around, leaning with her back against the railing as she watched the party through the glass door. Kevin followed suit, his eyes landing on Connor, now curled up and his mouth halfway open. Kevin smiled, Naba noticed.

“He really likes you,” she said, and Kevin looked over at her. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you before you showed up.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say. Instead, he averted his gaze and started fidgeting with his cufflinks. He felt overdressed. 

“I hope you know I’m not mad at you, Kevin,” she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I told you to tell Sam the truth and you did. You probably should have done it sooner, but what’s done is done. Don’t kick yourself too hard, you’re very fragile.”

Kevin snorted. “That’s not very nice,” he said and Naba shrugged with a smile. 

“Connor is lucky to have you,” she said, turning her head back to the door. 

“ _I’m_ the lucky one,” Kevin shook his head.

“You both are,” Naba said simply. “You’re both beautiful people, if somewhat stupid at times. But you seem happy, and that’s all that matters.” 

Kevin shot her an appreciative look, hoping his eyes could communicate the _thank you_ that his mouth seemed unable to speak. 

As the clocked neared midnight, Kevin found Connor still curled up on the couch, and he sank down next to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Connor shifted, letting his head rest against Kevin’s chest as he hummed unintelligible words that made Kevin unsure whether he was awake or talking in his sleep. 

“It’s five to midnight,” he whispered into Connor’s hair, “You’re gonna miss the ball drop.” 

“Long as I get to see your balls drop,” Connor mumbled after a hiccup and Kevin laughed.

“You’re a horny drunk, did you know that?” 

“Mmm,” he forced his eyes open and blinked slowly as he looked up at Kevin, “And you’re sober.”

“I have to work tomorrow, you know that.”

“I hate your job, it’s so mean-spirited and boring,” Connor pouted, “Can’t you call in sick so we can spend the day in bed?”

Kevin stroked his hair as Connor watched him through heavy eyelids. “You know I can’t, Con.”

Connor let out a deep sigh as he pushed himself upright, and Kevin watched him closely. He had been drinking far too much and Kevin didn’t want him to throw up on Steve’s couch- actually, he didn’t care about the couch, he just didn’t want Connor to be sick. Connor blinked a few times before he stood up on wobbly legs but managed to regain balance as he held his hand out to Kevin. 

“Then I at least want a spectacular New Year’s kiss,” he said, trying to pull Kevin up which resulted in Connor stumbling backward and Kevin having to catch him for the second time tonight. 

Connor started toward the already crowded balcony, then he stopped, tilted his head to one side and stumbled toward the hall instead, pulling Kevin along by his hand. He grabbed a coat Kevin knew wasn’t his and Kevin laughed when Connor almost fell over trying to tie his shoes. He gave up with a groan, then directed a coy smile at Kevin.

“Piggyback?” 

Kevin rolled his eyes to no avail, he was never going to be able to resist Connor anyway, so why even try. He picked Connor up and Connor draped his arms over Kevin’s shoulder, mumbling sweet nothings into Kevin’s ear as he carried him downstairs. He could hear their friends starting to count down from the balcony as he opened the door outside.

“Five!” 

He set Connor back on the ground, helping him find his balance before letting go.

“Four!”

Connor wrapped his arms around Kevin’s neck, rubbing their noses together as he glanced up to the sky.

“Three!” 

“I love New Year’s,” Connor said.

“Two!”

_I love you_ , Kevin replied in his mind. 

“One!”

Connor met Kevin’s eyes as the last second of a year slipped them by, and as soon as cheers erupted and fireworks colored the sky, he crashed into Kevin with the hunger Kevin never tired of. Kevin sighed into the kiss and Connor ran his fingers through Kevin’s hair and he wanted to stay in Connor’s arms until the end of time, and then a little bit longer. Connor’s mouth tasted like alcohol, but Kevin didn’t care, because this was the first moment of a new year. A new year they would spend together, and nothing could compare to that feeling. Nothing in the world, Kevin was sure of it. 

“Take me home,” Connor whispered, and Kevin would have been surprised by how quietly he’d spoken, but he found himself too infatuated to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I keep posting these in the middle of the night, but somehow the words come easier when I know I should be sleeping. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, kudos and comments are beyond appreciated. But knowing anyone other than myself is following this trainwreck of a fic is also a comfort. Feel free to drop by my tumblr (@sprinkleofharries), I'm not very active but I'm always open for a conversation about nearly anything. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you're doing well <3
> 
> ~~I was choosing between the current title and Longdick McNugget for this chapter, and it is honestly a miracle my 4am humor didn't win that fight.~~


	9. Don't be fooled by the pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis a slightly shorter chapter this time, but a chapter it is. 
> 
> _And guess who's making a cameo..._

Kevin was fidgeting with his pencil as he read through Andrew’s follow-up on the Roberts account, somewhat unaware of the action as his fingers were starting to hurt from the pressure, but he didn’t stop. He bit his lip to keep himself from cursing. The report was better than he’d hoped. 

Christina hadn’t said anything about it, and Kevin knew that accounts and cases get reassigned all the time, but Roberts had been _his_ client. Roberts had praised Kevin’s work, not Andrew’s. But Kevin knew better than to complain. He knew sharks only moved forward, so that’s what he was going to do. And as soon as Andrew made the slightest mistake, Kevin would pounce. 

He was only slightly surprised by how unfazed he was by the strategy. 

It didn’t take a lot of effort to plaster that fake smile on lips, to exchange dirty looks with his coworkers whenever someone mispronounced one word or stammered slightly. It was quite simple, actually. The office was not that unlike high school – what with the peer pressure and psychological bullying – and Kevin had _killed it_ in high school. 

He wasn’t elected homecoming king for nothing, and it reminded him of those words Christina had told him a few weeks ago. _You don’t get to be the boss by playing fair._

“Mr. Thomas!” 

Christina’s voice caught Kevin’s attention and he looked up to see his boss embracing a man he didn’t recognize. Most of his coworkers had noticed as well, and some of them – _Andrew_ – were already cozying up to the newcomer. Kevin glanced over at May who hadn’t even lifted her head to see what the commotion was all about. He wasn’t surprised. However, the more he listened to Christina’s exchange with the man, the more agitated he got. Whoever he was, Kevin could not afford to be outplayed by _anyone_ , especially not someone new. 

“It is a delight to finally meet you, I’ve heard only good things,” Christina said.

“Well, don’t let my reputation precede me,” the man laughed, and Kevin rolled his eyes. “I’m only human.”

Kevin watched as Christina led him into the conference room and closed the door behind them. He wanted answers now but knew he wouldn’t get them either way, so he settled back in and kept working. 

For ten minutes. 

He made his way over to May’s desk and she barely even acknowledged him as he tapped her shoulder.

“Hey, did you see that guy?” 

May shot him a confused look and Kevin gestured to the conference room. “Oh, the fresh meat?” she smirked. “Totally bangable.” 

“What? No- _what_?” Kevin had to do a double-take before continuing. “I mean, who is he? What’s he doing here?”

“Hopefully me,” May grinned and Kevin had to stifle a laugh. “Other than that, your guess is as good as mine. Probably just some privileged new recruit.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him.”

Kevin gave her a bored look but didn’t argue further. He already had his eyes on Andrew, besides, how threatening could a newcomer be. But then again, Christina hadn’t greeted Kevin with that much ardor when he’d joined the team, so maybe this Thomas was someone to look out for. 

\--- 

“Ready for lunch?” Kevin said as he approached Arnold’s desk. 

“In a sec!” 

Arnold was hard at work, a relatively rare sight to Kevin, and he couldn’t help but smile as his friend typed away on his keyboard. It was good to see Arnold working so – Kevin would almost call it passionately, and he leaned forward slightly to see what case Arnold was assigned. 

“You’re not serious,” he laughed when realizing the document Arnold had open was not a case file. In fact, it wasn’t even _work-related_. “Is that fanfiction?” 

“Uh, it’s _literature_ , Kev,” Arnold objected with a grin on his face. “Highly intellectual.”

“I’m sure,” Kevin rolled his eyes amusedly. “Now, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

They were out two minutes later and headed for the place next-door. Kevin sighed into the wall of heavenly smells they were met by when opening the door. God, he had missed lunches with Arnold. 

After ordering they found a table by the window and Kevin sank into the chair, feeling the stress roll off his shoulders and he thanked a God he didn’t believe in for allowing him a mental break. Arnold pulled up his phone and typed away a message that Kevin knew was something in the style of _having lunch with Kev, miss you_ followed by an absurd amount of emojis sent to Naba because Arnold was a romantic and if he missed a person, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell them. He had sent Kevin similar messages after he went radio silent after Vermont, and Kevin would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it. 

“It’s so cool that you and Connor are dating now,” Arnold smiled as he took a bite of his sandwich. Kevin instinctively glanced around to see if any of their colleagues were there. Thankfully, they weren’t, so he turned back to Arnold.

“It’s nice,” he said. 

Arnold considered him for a moment. “You _love_ him,” Arnold said in a sing-songy voice and Kevin rolled his eyes. 

He didn’t argue, though, but he didn’t confirm it, either. There was a distinct difference between thinking the words and saying them out loud that Kevin simply wasn’t sure he could manage right now. He was too preoccupied with work and trying to get his client back while ignoring this new person who showed up seemingly out of nowhere. He didn’t have time to think about love. 

“There’s a new guy at our floor,” Kevin said after a while.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t like him.”

Arnold chuckled. “I’m sure he’s the root of all evil, Kev. Just like the rest of the seventh-floor people.”

Kevin screwed up his face but dropped it and took another bite of his pasta. Arnold had already finished his food and excused himself to go get a slice of pie for dessert. Kevin watched him scurry off to the counter and couldn’t help but smile.

He turned his face toward the window and watched as people passed by. Heels with branded coffee mugs, three-piece suits with briefcases. He hated every single one of them. It didn’t matter if they were good people, really, because Kevin looked and saw only sharks. Sharks weren’t good people; sharks were apex predators. 

And now Kevin was one too. 

There was a brief moment where he met a woman’s eyes as she walked by in what Kevin assumed were absurdly expensive, pink stilettos, and Kevin wasn’t sure if she smiled or grimaced at him as she spoke with someone over the phone. She could have a family and give annually to UNICEF; Kevin couldn’t care less. 

Suddenly Arnold plopped down in his chair again, interrupting Kevin’s bitter thoughts, and Kevin felt uncomfortable by the lack of sympathy he’d felt just seconds ago. _People are still people_ , he thought. Even if they ate Kevin alive. 

“Steve’s having a party on Friday,” Arnold said then.

“Steve’s always having a party,” Kevin scoffed. 

“You’re going though, right?” 

Kevin frowned. There was a part of him that wanted to go – because Connor would be there – yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that Steve had taken Sam’s side in Vermont, and understandably so. “I’m not sure.”

“Sam won’t be there,” Arnold said as if reading Kevin’s mind. “She’s working. Naba told me.”

Kevin watched him closely for a moment. Arnold had invited him to many things with ulterior motives before, but the look on his friend’s face was genuine and Kevin ultimately acquiesced. 

“Alright,” he said, and Arnold cheered. “But I’m not letting you mix my drinks. Those vodka sodas you made last time were ninety percent vodka.” 

Arnold shrugged sheepishly, and Kevin laughed at the memory. That was the night he’d brought Connor back to his place, and the night before Connor had left him to wake up alone, but Kevin chose to focus on the first part only. Connor and sheets and more, more, more. 

\--- 

Kevin was stood in the breakroom, preparing a cup of coffee as a voice spoke his name.

“Kevin, right?” the man asked.

Now that Kevin could see him up close, he noticed a lot of things he had missed at first glance. His eyes were blue, but had more of a greyish tint than Connor’s, and his blond hair was perfectly sculpted on his head, every strand, every lock, neatly slicked back in a way that reminded Kevin of scripture studies and church services. His suit was professionally pressed by the looks of it, and Kevin could not find a single crease or wrinkle no matter how hard he tried. And Kevin did try. 

“Yeah,” Kevin answered. “Sorry, I never caught your name.”

“Thomas,” the man held out his hand toward Kevin. “Chris Thomas.”

Kevin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the way Chris had introduced himself, and the fact that his handshake was firm and confident made Kevin detest him even more. 

“So, Price, is that a family name?” Chris asked. 

Kevin narrowed his eyes slightly. _What the hell do you think_ , he thought. “Yeah,” he said. 

“I see,” Chris clicked his tongue. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Kevin.”

Kevin was caught off guard. _What?_ He didn’t know why Chris had heard _anything_ about him and frankly, he wasn’t too fond of it. That meant Chris had an advantage Kevin lacked; he knew nothing about his new competition– _Coworker_. 

“Well, I’m gonna get out of your hair, Kevin,” Chris said, and Kevin had to admit the smile on his didn’t look half as derisive as most people in the office. It almost seemed genuine, “I look forward to seeing you in action.”

Kevin was left dumbfounded as the man left. Chris Thomas had somehow met Kevin’s preconceived expectations and exceeded them all the same.

\--- 

Arnold was practically bouncing off the walls as they entered the building. Kevin wasn’t sure how the others had convinced him to go to an escape room – apart from Connor’s persuasive lips – but here he was, and he was not excited in the slightest. 

The room had a Sherlock Holmes theme and Kevin could see the smile on Arnold’s face grow bigger as the instructor went through the rules and guidelines. Kevin couldn’t see it; what was so fun about being locked inside a room? It’s just a game, solving ridiculous riddles that amount to some sort of absurd storyline that would eventually ‘unlock’ the door that isn’t locked to begin with. Creative logic wasn’t logic at all to Kevin, because Kevin liked order, and there was nothing orderly about a room filled with nonsensical puzzles. Kevin could not care less about solving anything.

But then again, a faint, minuscule part of him was afraid of failing.

“Alright, once the door is closed you have one hour,” the instructor smiled. “And don’t forget to use your three questions!”

The door shut and Kevin sighed loudly as Arnold, Naba, and Connor started examining the room. Kevin did a quick scan, too. He noticed five things. There was a table with a bunch of random numbers on it in the middle of the room. There was a bookshelf. There were tacky paintings on the walls. There was creepy music playing at a low volume. And lastly, there was a huge screen above the door with a button labeled _Need a clue?_ underneath it. Kevin resisted the urge to press it and ask to leave. 

“Look!” Arnold shouted. “There’s a key right here, has anyone seen a lock?”

Kevin looked around. He did not see a lock, no. 

“It’s probably hidden, Kevin check if you find anything in that bookshelf,” Connor shepherded him toward the side of the room. “Could you at least try to enjoy yourself?”

“I don’t like riddles,” Kevin sighed. 

Connor grimaced and continued searching another corner of the room, so Kevin did as told and started examining the bookshelf. 

He could not, for the love of all that’s holy, see how it was nothing but an extremely disorganized piece of furniture. But then a book caught his eye. It was thin, didn’t match the overall color scheme of the shelf, and it stuck out a little further than the rest of the books. It couldn’t be _that_ easy, right? It felt way too cliché that if Kevin were to pull the book out something would magically- oh hey, it worked. 

“Who did that?” Naba asked as the numbers on the table rotated. 

“Me,” Kevin deadpanned. “I think.” 

“Look who’s participating all of a sudden,” Connor grinned. “Keep doing that and there might just be a reward waiting for you later.”

Kevin shot him a hungry look and Connor licked his lips in response.

“Hey, I want a reward too!” Arnold exclaimed which made Connor snort.

The words escaped Kevin’s throat before he could stop them, “Trust me, you don’t.” Resulting in a confused look from Arnold and an eyeroll from Naba. 

They continued the search for more clues, Kevin now a bit more encouraged than before, and somewhere along the way they figured out the numbers on the table needed to be aligned in accordance with the music which Connor recognized as Für Elise, so they tried and they tried again and then Naba suggested that they translate the letters to numbers in alphabetical order and suddenly, the middle of the table opened and lo and behold – a lock. Arnold cheered. Kevin smiled. 

As Naba turned the lock, a door painted as a wall – that embarrassingly had passed them all by – opened and the quest continued in another room. 

As time passed and the puzzles intensified, Kevin found himself getting more and more involved. He hadn’t expected to have fun, and even if his enjoyment of the escape room itself was only minimal, knowing that his friends were having a good time was more than enough. Naba was great at connecting different clues together, coming up with new ideas to try something if another attempt had failed. Connor was extremely practical and observant, finding most of the clues by inspecting things the others would not have even thought to examine. And Arnold was, well, Arnold was creative. He had some bizarre ideas, but his curiosity and prior knowledge of Sherlock Holmes-tropes were eventually what led them to the solution. 

The last piece of the puzzle was to arrange an array of letters on the door that Kevin assumed would take them out of the room, and he was only slightly disappointed when all they had to do was spell out Moriarty and the door would open. Even he knew who Sherlock’s archenemy was – mainly because he’d watched an episode of the tv-series in college – and that was saying something, because Kevin does not keep up with pop culture, much to Arnold’s dismay. 

“Congratulations!” the instructor said as they exited the room. 

“How fast were we? I feel like we were _really_ fast.” There was a glint in Arnold’s eyes that made Kevin smile. 

“Fifty minutes on the dot!”

“Are you joking?” Connor laughed. “We were ten minutes from losing?”

“Well, there’s no winning or losing, really,” the instructor tried to reassure. “But you did spend quite some time arguing over what question to ask.”

“I told you _‘are we getting warmer?’_ was not a good question,” Naba glared at Arnold, but Kevin could see a small smile playing on her lips.

“At least we found out we weren’t,” Arnold smiled innocently.

“You did have two remaining questions that you never used, though,” the instructor said, and Kevin swore he could hear as the realization struck his friends at the same exact time. “But hey, you figured it out anyway.”

“Fuck, she’s right,” Connor deadpanned. 

“How did none of us remember that?” Arnold distressed and Kevin decided to omit his awareness of the matter, for better or worse. 

Once they’d left the escape room, they decided to stop for dinner and after a twenty-minute long argument, Connor got his way and then ended up cueing outside Ellen’s Stardust Diner for longer than Kevin had the patience for, really. But Connor was cute and fawning over the performers whenever they passed the table they were seated at, and Kevin didn’t even realize when, but he’d taken Connor’s hand in his and intertwined their fingers. He resisted the urge to quickly let go and act as if nothing happened, even though the voices were screaming at him and the air thickened. Connor seemed to have caught on as he softly squeezed Kevin’s hand, and for the moment, it was enough to pull Kevin back to reality and suppress his thoughts. 

“I’m going to work here one day,” Connor smiled as a waiter bowed after performing a song Kevin didn’t recognize. It was a good thing they were sitting down because the way Connor’s eyes sparkled would have made Kevin’s knees give out.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Arnold said, a surprised look on his face. 

“That’s because you’re always singing over everyone else,” Naba nudged him with a grin on her lips. 

Kevin laughed. “It _is_ kind of hard to get a word in at karaoke nights,” he said, despite never actually participating in such activities, but he’d been dragged out enough times to know Arnold could be a bit of a mic-hog. 

“Why don’t you apply?” Naba turned to Connor. “You’re easily as good as anyone here.”

“Oh god, don’t say that,” Connor blushed. “I’m _okay_ , at best.”

“You’re just modest,” Naba smiled.

“You’re really good in the shower,” Kevin said and when Connor almost choked on his food, he added, “At singing, pervert.”

“Everyone sounds good in the shower, Kevin,” he argued. 

“Not everyone,” Naba laughed and looked over at Arnold who feigned hurt. 

\--- 

Kevin was entangled with Connor when his phone started ringing. Connor had already fallen asleep and Kevin could hear him groan quietly at the sound, he left a soft peck on Connor’s forehead as he reached over to see who was calling at this hour. Well, he says that – it was 10pm.

His heart jumped and he flew out of bed when he read the name on the screen. _Mom_. Connor uttered something unintelligible as Kevin left the room for some privacy. Something told him he was going to need it. 

“Mom?” 

“Kevin,” his mother’s voice sounded just like he remembered it – polite and distant – but there was a familiarity in the way she said his name that almost made him cry. “I’m sorry to call so late. Did I wake you?”

Kevin shook his head and quickly realized she couldn’t see him. “No,” he said. “No, I was up.”

“It’s so good to hear your voice.” Kevin forced his eyes shut to keep them from tearing up. “How’s New York?”

“It’s uh, it’s busy,” he said, his head spinning. He didn’t know why his mother had called out of nowhere. It wasn’t Kevin’s birthday, it wasn’t Christmas or Easter or any holiday Kevin could think of. She never _just called_ , none of them did. Kevin didn’t either, for that matter, and he wasn’t sure whether to expect the worst or hope for the best. “How’s home?”

He flinched at the word; he hadn’t thought of Utah as home in years. 

“Oh, everything is good, we’re all happy.” The words sounded like a complete lie, and if Kevin knew his mother, they were. 

“Glad to hear that, mom,” he said, the words almost coming out as a whisper. He considered his words carefully before speaking again, not sure how open to be, but hearing her voice had brought out something inside him that he hadn’t felt in god knows how long. So he told her, “I miss you.”

His mother didn’t answer, and the silence felt like a thousand daggers through his heart. 

“I’ve been thinking recently,” she said after a moment, “that there is still a life for you here. You can still come home.”

If Kevin thought himself calling Utah home was difficult to hear, it didn’t even compare to hearing his mother say it. The fact that she’d been thinking about him was completely overshadowed by her still trying to force Kevin back to the Church, and he wanted to take her words as caring but instead he felt himself fill with anger. 

How could she have the _nerve_ to call him out of absolutely nowhere with such ulterior motives? At least Kevin had the decency to pretend to be okay with their life choices. He didn’t want to come _home_ , in fact, the more he heard himself refer to Salt Lake as home, the sicker he felt.

“I already have a life, mother,” he said, noticing the shift in his tone and he immediately felt bad, so he added a _sorry_ even though he wasn’t, really. 

“I know you do, Kevin, but people change. One day you might want to return. I just want you to keep your options open.” 

The irony was unbelievable, but Kevin didn’t call her out. 

“Yeah,” he said instead. “I am.”

“That makes me very happy, Kevin.” Kevin heard no emotion in her voice whatsoever. “Very, very happy.”

“I’m sure.” 

The initial feeling he’d had when answering had almost completely vanished by now. He should have known better than, should have known she wasn’t calling to tell him she was sorry for years of neglect and that she loved him no matter what choices he made. That wasn’t the Price way, and he felt stupid for even contemplating the idea. 

“You should come visit soon,” she said, and Kevin wanted to laugh. “Easter is only two months away, perhaps then?”

“Perhaps.”

“You could at least pretend to consider it, Kevin.”

Kevin scoffed. “Yeah, like you pretended to invite me to Jack’s wedding.”

His mother fell silent again, and Kevin cursed himself for feeling bad for her. 

“Who your brother chose to invite to his wedding is his business,” she said. “You’ll have to respect his decision to exclude you after you left the Church.”

“Fine,” Kevin found himself saying after a moment. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Thank you. I have to get ready for bed now, but Kevin,” she paused, “I really do hope you’ll consider it.” 

“I will, mom,” he said, more reassuringly than he’d preferred. “Good night.”

“Good night.” 

Silence. 

Kevin didn’t know what to do, whether to laugh or cry or scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted to go back someday, wanted to be closer to his family but, how could he? His mother couldn’t even say she missed him back, and even if Mormons weren’t allowed to lie, Kevin knew she did it all the time. She had as long as Kevin could remember, all of them had. It was hard not to when their life was one big fabricated display. 

He dug his nails into his palm as he replayed the conversation in his head, feeling repulsed by how fast he’d succumbed to the familiarity and simultaneously bad for snapping at her. Sure, he wanted to give his parents hell for not respecting his choices, yet another part of him wanted to call her back and beg for forgiveness. It really was a strange line to walk. 

“Hey,” Connor’s voice made him jump. “You okay?”

Kevin wasn’t. Kevin was furious, now that he’d had some time to think. He wanted to suppress and forget as soon as possible and pressed Connor against the wall with such desperate need, such urgency, that Connor let out a surprised laugh before kissing Kevin back. Kevin didn’t want to waste any time, and dropped to his knees, pulling Connor’s boxers down in the process and the moan that escaped his lips sent Kevin reeling. But before he could take them further Connor pushed him back. 

“What?” Kevin’s voice was harsher than he wanted to – than he meant it to be.

“Look as hot as that was,” Connor pulled his underwear back up and sank down next to Kevin on the floor, “I don’t think sex is going to make you feel better about your mom.” 

Kevin groaned involuntarily. He was trying to forget his mother’s call ever happened, not talk his feelings out because honestly, he was afraid that if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And he did not feel like going through eighteen years of psychological abuse right now. 

“It might,” he tried, hoping that Connor would give in and take his mind off everything. 

Connor considered him for a second, then reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Kevin’s face. His fingers were cold, yet the touch left burn marks on his skin and Kevin leaned into the sensation. 

“You’re so strong, do you know that?” Connor whispered. “Every second that you fight the pain, every minute you endure. You’re so strong but you don’t have to carry the weight all on your own, Kevin.” 

When Kevin didn’t answer he added, “I tried, it’s not worth it,” and Kevin wanted to ease Connor’s pain but could not care less about dealing with his own. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly, unable to meet Connor’s eyes. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” Connor said. “I’m just saying that if you do, I’m here.” 

And Kevin was grateful, he really was, but he didn’t know how to show it without sounding insincere, so he settled for taking Connor’s hand and hugging it. Connor watched him and Kevin wondered what he was thinking about. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing to open up to Connor. After all, he had told Kevin about being kicked out by his parents, so he’d understand without a doubt. But Kevin was still reluctant, and it wasn’t because it was Connor, no, Kevin didn’t think he’d ever be able to talk about his family. At least not the bad parts. 

After a while, Connor got up from the floor, gently dragging Kevin along and pulled him in for a hug that made Kevin want to hold on forever. 

“Come on, it’s my turn to be the big spoon tonight,” Connor said, and Kevin couldn’t wait to fall asleep in his arms. God knows he needed it more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Poptarts! I wanted to write him in at some point and voila, Kevin hates him. Good start, right. 
> 
> Thank you so much to the people still reading, it means the world and the moon and I am more than grateful for your kudos and comments. I'm going into a course at uni that is either going to be the most hectic thing I've ever experienced or a breeze, so bear with me if updates are slow. They're coming, I promise. 
> 
> Oh, and if you have any ideas/questions/requests feel free to drop by @sprinkleofharries on tumblr because I have fallen in love with writing McPriceley and I will gladly take all and any advice or prompts you want to throw my way. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and I hope to see you soon!
> 
> ~~And yes, the title is a reference to mean girls~~


	10. Beth Israel is Real Ideal in Nearly Real Death Ordeals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~who doesn't love alliteration~~

“If I could have everyone’s attention, please!”

Christina’s voice snapped Kevin out of his work trance, and he looked up to see his boss standing next to the new guy. Kevin had deliberately forgotten his name. 

“I’d like to introduce you all to Chris Thomas, your new floor manager.” _Wait, what?_ “From now on you’ll be reporting directly to Chris, who then reports to me. I need everyone to schedule a meeting with Chris so he can get to know you better, sooner rather than later.”

Kevin’s jaw had dropped to the floor. The new guy wasn’t just new, he was Kevin’s _boss_. There were quiet murmurs around the office, but no one spoke up. 

“I look forward to working with all of you,” Chris smiled. “If there are any questions, my door is always open. And thank you, Christina, for the wonderful introduction.”

Christina smiled complacently. “I think this might be the start of something incredible, Thomas.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Kevin couldn’t help but feel the scene was bizarre. There was a strange sense of juxtaposition hanging in the air as Christina announced _Chris Thomas_ as the person who would contribute a long-needed change and for some reason, it unsettled him. 

Kevin always thought he’d be the one to do something incredible. 

As Chris returned to his office and Christina disappeared to the eleventh floor, Kevin slumped back in his seat. Believe it or not – Kevin didn’t – but Kevin liked Christina. She was smart, confident, and sure, as arrogant as they come, but she could be _decent_. She could give Kevin advice and praise and smile at him with what Kevin at least thought resembled real emotions. And if he were honest, Kevin sometimes felt like the only person who believed he was competent enough to be on the seventh floor to begin with was Christina. He didn’t know what motives this Chris guy was hiding, and despite the similar names, Kevin was sure Chris was in no way, shape, or form as good a boss as Christina had been. 

He didn’t even fully comprehend why they needed a floor manager. They hadn’t had one before, they reported to Christina who was stationed on the eleventh floor and that had worked perfectly fine. 

To keep his mind from spiraling, he tried focusing on work, rereading the same paragraph nineteen times before realizing it was hopeless. He couldn’t even focus on Andrew, who seemed delighted by the change of leadership as he was perched against the doorframe of Chris’ office, chatting away about some superficial topic Kevin would rather fling himself out the window than discuss. 

He realized he’d been staring – if not glaring – when Chris’ eyes locked with Kevin’s. _Fuck_ , he thought, quickly averting his gaze, feeling stupid as his cheeks flushed. 

“Price,” a voice called, and Kevin’s heart stopped for a second before realizing it was only Marius. “What account are you on right now?”

“McCoy.”

“Drop it.” 

Kevin narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Gladstone,” Marius said without further explanation. 

Kevin’s eyes widened. Not only was Gladstone a top-tier client of theirs; Gladstone had _power_ , and Kevin knew just about everyone on the floor wanted the account. 

“What about it?” he asked, reluctant to trust his colleague. For obvious reasons. 

“It’s up for grabs since Jenny got the boot,” Marius smiled and leaned down slightly as he lowered his voice to utter six words Kevin didn’t expect hearing from any of his coworkers. “If we team up, it’s ours.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed again as he considered Marius’s words carefully. There was logic behind the proposition, what with strength in numbers and all that, still a part of him couldn’t help but feel it was a trap. He glanced over at Chris’ office, where Andrew was now reclined in the chair opposite Chris’, and suddenly there was no doubt in his mind. If Kevin got Gladstone, he could easily snag Roberts out of Andrew’s cold – and preferably dead – hands. 

“I’m in.”

\--- 

“Kevin Price,” Chris smiled when Kevin entered his office. “Would you mind closing the door behind you?”

Kevin did, but closed it either way. Chris’s office was small and bland. Dull, slightly off-white walls with an entirely black and gray décor. The only trace of a personality Kevin could find was a painting hung above Chris’s head, but then he remembered it being in there even when it had just been a conference room for smaller meetings. Sure, perhaps his new boss hadn’t had time to decorate yet, but Kevin was reluctant to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Kevin took a seat opposite Chris and waited for his _manager_ to speak. 

Chris considered him for a moment, and then spoke in a neutral tone, “So, tell me about yourself.”

It took every muscle in Kevin’s body to keep him from rolling his eyes. This wasn’t a job interview, why should he have to sell himself if he already was employed. 

“Alright, well, I graduated from Eastern Michigan University as summa cum laude, got a Bachelor’s in finance and I’ve been working here since June–“

“Those are excellent achievements, Kevin, but I’ve already read your resume,” Chris interrupted. “I want to hear about _you_. Who is Kevin Price?”

Kevin stared at him, mouth slightly agape before he came to his senses and searched his brain for a decent answer. Who _was_ Kevin Price? Racking his brain, he could not think of one defining feature that wasn’t _ex-Mormon_ or _kinda gay_. Neither of which he felt comfortable sharing.

“I, uh, I work hard, I’m organized, I’m… good with numbers,” Kevin said hesitantly. _Jesus Christ_ , he didn’t even believe it himself.

Chris clicked his tongue as he watched Kevin’s train wreck of an introduction. The look in his eyes was mostly neutral, but there was something there that Kevin thought might just resemble sympathy. Chris cleared his throat as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a packet of papers stapled together and handed it over to Kevin. 

_Myers-Briggs Type Indicator_ , the front page read. Kevin frowned.

“I like to know where to keep staff members,” Chris explained. “Have you done a similar test before?”

Kevin shook his head. 

“Then I’d like you to take it. It’s more for me than it is for you,” Chris offered a smile that somehow didn’t make Kevin feel like an idiot. “Just to give me an indication of your strengths, but of course I’ll put most weight on your actual work performances, so don’t worry.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say, so instead, he nodded and left. He was a bit vexed that Chris made him take a personality test, as if they _actually_ worked, but once he started, something in his mind was put at ease. He just wasn’t sure what. 

_You often talk about your feelings and emotions._ Disagree, strongly disagree.

_You are still bothered by the mistakes you made a long time ago_. Kevin scoffed. His entire being could practically fit in that sentence. _Strongly agree_.

The next statement made him stop. _In your opinion, it is sometimes okay to step on others to get ahead in life_. It felt like a trick question, like something Chris would only use against him at a later date because inevitably, every single person in this malignant building would throw someone under the bus at some point. So, what does he choose? Kevin’s heart screamed _no_ while his mind simply beckoned him closer. Kevin had a habit of listening to his head lately. 

_Agree._

It only took him fifteen minutes to complete the test, and he soon found himself back in Chris’ office, awkwardly rolling his thumbs while Chris examined his results. Kevin wasn’t sure what _ESTJ-T_ meant, it all sounded like random letters and he found it difficult to believe there was any science or truth behind something so mundane. Yet he oozed with anticipation as Chris raised his eyebrows in what looked to Kevin like curiosity.

“Executive, huh?” Chris said after reading through the test twice, a curious smile on his lips. “Got to say I’m not too surprised.”

Kevin blinked. “What does it mean?”

“Means you’re logical,” Chris explained. “Organized, strong-willed, honest. Guess your description was better than I gave you credit for.” 

Kevin wasn’t sure how to respond. So he didn’t. 

“Do you like leading, Kevin?” Chris watched him intently. 

“Uh,” Kevin deadpanned. “Sure.”

Truth be told, Kevin _did_ enjoy leading, to an extent, at least. He liked taking charge and getting things done, and he didn’t mind bossing people around every now and again. But he hadn’t found himself in a position to do any of that here yet, and despite becoming more and more comfortable stepping on people’s toes, the idea of _playing unfairly_ , as Christina had put it, did not sit too well with him. Even if his head tried to convince him otherwise.

Kevin liked rules, and he preferred sticking to them over sticking it to the man. Most of the time.

“Interesting,” Chris thought aloud before returning his focus to the test in front of him. “I’m gonna give this another once-over. Thank you for your time, Kevin.”

And just like that, the meeting was over. Kevin left Chris’s office and returned to his desk feeling more confused than ever. He did a quick Google search to find out more about his supposed personality type, but then remembered his workload and felt guilty for spending his time on personal research. 

Instead, he focused on the Gladstone account, which he’d agreed to work on with Marius, and even though his colleague had told him to drop McCoy in order to do it, he didn’t feel comfortable handing off the task to anyone else and the thought of half-assing the case had not even crossed his mind. 

\--- 

“Black coffee, please.”

Connor turned around at the order, as he’d been cleaning one of the coffee machines when Kevin entered. His surprised face quickly turned into a warm smile as he leaned over the counter to give Kevin a quick peck. Kevin only glanced around for a second after the kiss, and he knew Connor noticed but he answered Kevin’s apologetic look with a smile either way. 

“What are you doing here?” he smiled as he got started on Kevin’s coffee. 

“Late lunch,” Kevin shrugged. “Any chance you can take your break now?”

Connor checked his watch, holding a finger up in a _just a sec_ way before he popped his head in the backroom. Kevin could hear him tell whoever was on the inside that he’d be taking his twenty minutes soon and then made himself an iced coffee, charging Kevin for both their drinks with a _you make more money_ that made Kevin roll his heart-shaped eyes. 

They found a table by the far corner and Connor started chatting away about how some minor celebrity Kevin pretended to recognize had visited the shop earlier and _not even tipped_. He reached over, taking Connor’s hand in his without really thinking about it and realized it had become somewhat of a subconscious reaction whenever Connor was near. 

Connor smiled. “How’s your day been?” 

“Long,” Kevin sighed. “Are you coming over tonight?” 

Ever since Vermont, Connor had pretty much been living in Kevin’s apartment, only staying at his own place occasionally. Kevin was a bit surprised by how natural it felt sharing his living space with another person, but then again that person was Connor, so perhaps he shouldn’t be too shocked. Connor had started to feel more and more like _home_ , after all.

“Was thinking about it,” Connor said, and Kevin considered him for a moment.

“How come we never stay at your place?” The thought had crossed his mind before, but he’d been too content being cooped up with Connor in the comfort of his own home to ask him about it. 

Connor hesitated. 

“Don’t tell me you’re hiding a family in Jersey or something,” Kevin feigned despair. “I knew you were too good to be true.” 

Connor laughed. “Not exactly,” he paused briefly. “I do have three roommates, though.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “Roommates?” 

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.” 

“That’s because you’ve never asked to come round my place.” Connor’s smile was both teasing and warm and understanding, and Kevin felt the pang of guilt like a dagger through his chest.

“Sorry,” he said. “To be fair, you’ve never suggested it either.”

“Yeah, because of said roommates, babe,” Connor emphasized, an amused look on his face. “Privacy is pretty much unattainable over there.”

“Why don’t you get your own place then?” 

Connor raised his eyebrows, giving Kevin an incredulous look before he shook his head slightly. “Just how high do you think my salary is? I’m a part-time barista in New York and you think I can afford my own place? You’re cute.”

Kevin felt himself blush slightly, as he’d momentarily forgotten the absurd rates of rent and Connor’s very limited financial status. Still, he was thankful Connor seemed more charmed than offended by his oblivious question and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of people Connor lived with. He’d never mentioned them, so they couldn’t be very close. A part of him felt quite jealous because whoever they were, they got to spend time with Connor the way only Kevin should, he thought, even though they probably didn’t share a bed. But what if they–

_No_ , he thought. That’s completely illogical, and Connor would have told him. Right? 

Connor had turned his head toward the window and was mindlessly stroking Kevin’s hand with his thumb. He supported his chin in his free hand and Kevin thought he saw stars in the blue of his eyes. 

Kevin watched him for a moment, noting how his breathing was steady, rhythmic, and how his eyes followed as people passed outside the window. He felt the sudden urge to taste his lips and hold him in his arms and run his fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings that meant everything and more to Kevin. 

“Move in with me,” he found himself saying instead.

Connor’s head snapped back to him, intense eyes that searched Kevin’s face and he realized just how crazy it was to suggest Connor should move in after not even dating a full month. 

“What?” Connor said after a while, his expression excruciatingly unreadable. 

“Shit- I’m sorry, I don’t know where-“

Connor interrupted him with his lips and Kevin could feel him smiling into the kiss as he parted his lips to whisper an _is that a yes?_ that Connor responded with his tongue. 

They spent the rest of Connor’s break silently making out – Kevin was grateful for choosing a table in a somewhat empty corner of the place – until Connor’s manager cleared her throat and offered an apologetic yet amused smile that made Kevin’s cheeks burn. Connor gave him one more kiss, deep and slow and tender that made Kevin chase his lips once he pulled away. 

“See you tonight,” he said, and Kevin could feel himself falling as Connor smiled. 

\--- 

Friday had arrived much sooner than Kevin had anticipated, and he found himself rummaging through his closet in the search for something to wear to Steve’s party. He could hear Connor singing in the shower and struggled to ignore how his boyfriend had joined him in there fifteen minutes ago and how _hot_ it had been to clean himself in the filthiest way he could imagine. Connor had promptly kicked him out after getting Kevin off, and Kevin’s protests were met by showtunes as Connor taunted him, so he decided to wait and get Connor back after the party instead. Maybe even during, if he felt bold enough. Steve _did_ have a huge bathroom, after all. 

He shook his head, clearing it of any thoughts as he picked between a navy dress shirt and a more relaxed, white button-down. Eventually, he opted for the latter and grabbed a matching tie as he considered what shoes to wear. His Oxfords felt a bit dressy, but his sneakers were old and discolored by the bleak New York winter. 

As he reached over to examine his shoes, he could hear the shower turn off and soon Connor emerged, wrapped in a towel around his waist as he eyed Kevin. His hair was wet and tangled yet Kevin saw only beauty, his skin pale yet Kevin likened it to Heaven. Everything about Connor was more than Kevin could ever ask for, and he found no flaws, no imperfections, whatsoever.

Without a word, Connor made his way over and Kevin felt tempted to yank the towel off him but refrained when his boyfriend – _boyfriend!_ – reached for his neck. 

“Off,” he said simply, untying Kevin’s tie. “It’s a party, not a temple wedding.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “So, I shouldn’t wear my Oxfords then?”

“Jesus, Kevin, it’s almost as if you want to be uncomfortable,” Connor laughed. 

Kevin screwed up his face and stole a quick kiss before Connor got dressed, trying to focus on his Twitter feed but felt his eyes drift over to his boyfriend every now and then. Connor hadn’t felt shy about clearing out space in Kevin’s closet for some of his clothes. In fact, he hadn’t even asked, just done it on a whim while Kevin was at work one day, and it made his heart lighter, knowing that Connor felt comfortable enough to think of Kevin’s apartment as home. He was moving in soon, after all.

He smiled as Connor checked his reflection once he was finished, and Kevin’s eyes filled with hunger and need when locking with Connor’s through the mirror. To hell with waiting, he thought as he sat back up on the bed, crawled over to the edge and hooked a finger in the belt loop on Connor’s pants, pulling him closer. 

“We have to leave soon,” Connor laughed but straddled Kevin’s hips regardless. “I’m not getting changed again and you better not mess up my hair.

“No promises,” Kevin murmured against Connor’s neck, a small moan escaping his boyfriend’s mouth before he gently pushed Kevin down, capturing his lips in sweet and soft and perfect symphony.

Kevin smiled and let his hands explore Connor’s body, only slightly annoyed at the lack of skin to touch and moved his hands up but Connor grabbed hold of them before Kevin could reach his hair and pinned them to either side of his face. 

“Uh uh,” he whispered against Kevin’s lips. “Touch the hair and you’re a dead man, Kevin Price.”

Kevin groaned, chasing after Connor’s fleeting kisses until his boyfriend sat back up, still holding on to Kevin’s hands and pulling them with him as he got back on his feet. Kevin begrudgingly followed, and Connor laughed at his pout before pulling him through the door. 

They got to Steve’s apartment around 10pm and were immediately met by loud music and even louder conversations. Arnold emerged from the kitchen, drink in hand, and made his way over to greet them as they entered. There were some people Kevin didn’t recognize, but most of the faces he had seen at least once and felt surprisingly relieved. He didn’t feel like introducing himself to a bunch of strangers tonight. 

“K-Dog!” Steve’s voice caught Kevin’s attention as he watched Connor mix their drinks. 

“Steve… dog,” Kevin replied dumbly with much less enthusiasm, but thankfully Steve wasn’t disheartened. 

“Don’t you boys look _dashing_ ,” he smiled, earning a humored look from Connor. 

Kevin felt increasingly awkward in Steve’s presence, still reeling from Vermont and Sam and spilled secrets that ruined everything. Steve was closer to Sam than he was to Kevin, so it had only been natural he’d taken Sam’s side, but then Steve was closer to Connor than he was to Sam, so the whole thing felt like a never-ending cycle of impossible alliances that was doomed to end even more disastrously than Kevin had already anticipated.

But Steve was _Steve_ , he didn’t have the heart to shun a friend, even if their mistake had been conscious and cruel. Steve still treated Kevin the same, and it should feel way more soothing than it actually did. 

Once Connor had finished pouring Kevin’s Vodka Soda, Kevin excused himself to join the rest of the party – and just maybe escape the guilty conscience Steve brought out in him – while Connor and Steve hung back, arguing over which bar they should go to later. Kevin found Naba sitting on the couch, watching a game of beer pong Arnold was sorely losing, and Kevin took a seat next to her. 

“Not drinking?” he asked as he noticed she wasn’t holding a glass.

“On call,” she explained, and Kevin nodded. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Kevin smiled. “You?”

“Me too, just trying to keep that one out of trouble,” she nodded her head in Arnold’s general direction. “He’s already agreed to getting three tattoos and his nipples pierced, and he isn’t even drunk yet.”

Kevin couldn’t help but laugh; Arnold had a tendency to accept bets he was bound to lose. “He really ought to get better at beer pong.”

“You’re telling me.” 

Kevin watched Arnold miss every shot for a while, astounded by how his friend could be so bad at something and still enjoy himself unabashedly. Arnold even cheered when the other team got the ball in one of their cups before realizing that meant he had to drink. Which he did without protesting, of course. Arnold may be quite short, but he sure can hold his liquor. 

As the minutes went by and Kevin’s guilt only grew because most of the times he’d been to Steve’s apartment, Sam had been there as well and the walls seemed to reflect her everywhere Kevin looked. He quickly downed his drink. And then another. And another. And then maybe four more for good measure. There was a sudden urgency all through his body to let his inhibitions go, just for a night, and he leaned into the false sense of freedom warming his chest.

Connor was stood talking with Naba and one of Steve’s friends when Kevin found him, and he jumped slightly when Kevin hugged him from behind but leaned into the touch when he realized who it was. 

“I think your boyfriend is drunk,” Naba laughed.

“I think you’re right,” Connor agreed and the hiccup that escaped Kevin’s mouth right after was telling enough. “Okay, we’ve been here the same amount of time, how much have you had?” Connor spun around, wrapping his arms around Kevin’s waist and Kevin wasn’t sure if it was because he kinda, sorta struggled to keep his balance or if Connor was just being sweet.

“Mmmm, a little,” Kevin hiccupped, and Connor tutted. 

“Babe, I hate to break it to you, but you really can’t hold your liquor.”

Kevin grimaced and leaned in closer. “Come with me.”

Connor raised his eyebrows expectantly, then narrowed his eyes slightly before allowing Kevin to drag him along by his hand. Kevin knew just where they were going. Kevin had a plan and not a single trace of shame in his mind. 

Connor laughed when Kevin opened the bathroom door but didn’t protest as Kevin pulled him inside. Kevin didn’t feel like wasting another second and pressed Connor against the door with a hungry kiss that his boyfriend either couldn’t resist or didn’t want to – not that it mattered. He wrapped his arms around Kevin’s neck as their tongues danced and Kevin’s hands traveled down Connor’s body in need and want and fervent lust. 

“Where have you been hiding this side?” Connor laughed into his mouth, bucking his hips at Kevin’s touch. “Kevin-“ 

“No one will hear,” Kevin hummed against Connor’s neck. 

“You don’t- oh _fuck_ ,” Connor breathed. “You don’t know that.” 

“The music is too loud.” 

“Someone could- _Jesus_ – someone could come in.”

“The door’s locked.” 

Connor pushed him back and Kevin hesitated for a moment, searching Connor’s flustered face for yes or no as Connor bit his lip in thought. It probably wasn’t a good idea, he knew that, but Kevin was drunk and Connor was _hot_ and it seemed less impulsive in Kevin’s head than reality would suggest. Connor watched him with a look Kevin struggled to read – _not at all_ because of the alcohol – but then he groaned and pushed himself into Kevin who stumbled back by the impact. 

“Let’s at least move away from the door,” Connor said as he pushed Kevin against the opposite wall, clearly making more noise than either of them had intended to. 

Kevin, despite his drunken state, swiftly turned them around so that Connor’s back was against the wall and the way his name fell off Connor’s tongue as he trailed kisses down his body almost sent him over the edge. He found no point in teasing, and Connor voiced his gratitude with soft, if not craving, moans. 

They snuck back out of the bathroom a while later, and Connor breathed a huge sigh of relief when no one was stood in the hall on the other side of the door. Kevin was still too intoxicated to care and would’ve gladly gone back inside if Connor wasn’t in such a rush to leave. Connor had done his best to style his disheveled hair with some of Steve’s products, and he’d forced some into Kevin’s hair as well, even though Kevin didn’t mind his hair being one big, messy piece of evidence of what they’d been doing. 

It didn’t quite work, though, because as soon as they entered the living room, Steve was quick to notice. 

“I hope you cleaned up after yourselves,” he smirked, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And I _really_ hope that’s gel in your hair, Kev.” 

It almost felt surreal, Kevin being unfazed while Connor’s cheeks reddened, but Kevin didn’t mind the reversed roles or letting his responsibilities go right now. Really, he was too drunk to even worry. 

Not long after they were on their way out, Kevin’s head was spinning but Connor helped him walk in a semi-straight, semi-balanced line as they made their way to some bar. Kevin hadn’t noticed entering but suddenly found himself in the middle of a dancefloor, with Connor in front of him, surrounded by strange faces and moving bodies. Connor was shouting along to the lyrics of a song Kevin didn’t recognize, and he simply swayed along to the music to the best of his ability, relying more on the people around him keeping him upright than on his own legs. The room was hot and blurry and the blinking lights seemed to swallow him whole, falling into the stillness of a pulsating rhythm as his senses abandoned him and the world washed away. 

Kevin could feel his heartbeat in his ears. 

\--- 

There was a brief moment where Kevin thought he saw God. Or _a_ God, or perhaps the light, as he’s heard it called before. There was also a moment where Kevin thought he’d gone to Hell, because the bright white glow had been replaced by a reddish hue caused by the light boring through his eyelids and in all honesty, he hadn’t been as frightened as he knew he should have been. 

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times to adjust to the white walls and beeping noises. He had no memory of getting there. In fact, he barely remembered anything after they left Steve’s apartment last night besides Connor and the _dun dun dun_ of a forgotten rhythm.

He looked to his right, following the plastic tube from his arm up to an IV machine beside him, before he felt someone flick his arm sharply.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Connor said and wrapped his arms around Kevin as he turned his head. “I thought you were gonna fucking die.”

Kevin wanted to smile but found his body too tired to do so. “What happened?”

“You got alcohol poisoning,” Connor frowned, sitting back down in the chair beside him. “Or at least that’s what they’re telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, and Connor’s expression softened. 

“No, I… You just really scared me, Kevin. You just collapsed out of nowhere, I was shitting myself – _hey_ , don’t laugh, asshole.” Connor shoved him when Kevin had finally mustered up somewhat of a smile. 

Once again, Kevin hadn’t realized but at some point, he’d reached for Connor’s hand and was holding it tightly in his own. Connor was watching him carefully, his eyes a hint of concern Kevin hadn’t really seen before. He didn’t like hospitals; Kevin knew this because Connor had spent many days of his adolescence accompanying his mother to work as a nurse. He hadn’t minded it back then, but since his parents practically disowned him, any memory of his childhood was a painful reminder of his lack of a family. 

Kevin was about to say something – thank you or sorry or I can be your family instead – but then he realized he was in a hospital. In New York. _Please don’t let it be-_

“Which hospital are we in?”

Connor cocked his head to one side. “Beth Israel.” 

No. No, no, _nonono_. “Can we go?” Kevin turned around, unhooking himself from the IV and flinging his legs off the bed.

“Kevin, slow down, you can’t just up and leave.” 

“I feel fine.”

Connor appeared in front of him, blocking the way out as he pushed him back toward the bed. “You’re not going anywhere until Naba gets back.”

Kevin reluctantly sat back down, Connor still holding onto his shoulders as if worried Kevin would try to escape otherwise. Probably a sensible decision because this was Naba’s hospital, which meant it was Sam’s hospital, which meant he could run into the person he strung along for weeks and cheated on repeatedly at any time.

“You’re okay, Kev,” Connor said, his voice softer now and his eyes heavy. 

“Is Sam…”

Connor shook his head. “She’s not working- actually, I don’t know that, but she’s not here. It’s okay.”

Kevin didn’t believe him, because the vines were tightening around his neck and the air seemed to get thinner by the minute. His chest was throbbing with pain and his vision seemed to blur as he tried to focus on Connor’s feet, but the constant beeping got louder and louder and the white walls kept crawling closer. 

“I can’t breathe.” Kevin pushed past Connor and headed for the window, desperately trying to open it. “I need air.”

“Kevin, the windows don’t open- hey, I’m here, just breathe, okay?” Connor spoke softly, rubbing his hand up and down Kevin’s back as his breaths started to sound more like panting. “What can I do? Should I call a nurse?”

Kevin shook his head, which only made it spin. “I just want to go.” 

“We can leave soon,” Connor said. “Just, breathe with me till Naba comes, alright?”

Kevin closed his eyes and nodded, trying to focus on Connor’s breathing and matching the pace. _Inhale two three four, exhale two three four five six_. Repeat. Again and again and again and again until Naba appeared through the door with a puzzled look as she saw the two of them, Kevin with his eyes closed and Connor counting along to his breathing. 

When Kevin had calmed down somewhat and dared to open his eyes again, Connor quickly explained what had happened and Naba examined Kevin for a moment, before asking Connor to step outside. Kevin took a seat on the bed as Connor left the room, and Naba watched him closely. 

“Have you had a panic attack before, Kevin?” 

Kevin blinked at her a few times but shook his head when she didn’t elaborate. That wasn’t a _panic attack_ , he thought. That was just a tiny, molecular, completely harmless freak-out, surely.

“Sounds to me like you just had one,” she said while checking his blood pressure. 

“I just freaked out. I’m fine,” Kevin tried to sound as convincing as possible, he really couldn’t bear need another person telling him to talk to someone. 

“Blood pressure’s fine,” she said. “You, I’m not so sure. There are some really great psychiatrists here, I can schedule an appointment if- “

“Look, I appreciate it – really, I do – but I’m okay, I’m just stressed about work, is all.”

Naba’s eyes narrowed slightly as she considered his words. Kevin could tell she wasn’t sold on the idea, but she didn’t push it further and Kevin offered her a grateful, less convincing, smile. 

“Well, then you’re free to go,” Naba clicked her tongue. “And no alcohol for a while, alright? Don’t want to see you back here next weekend.”

“I just had a bit too much,” he said, and when Naba responded with a stern look, added, “But sure. Yeah, no, absolutely. Sober it is.” 

Alcohol wasn’t the problem anyway. He had only necked most of a bottle of vodka because he couldn’t – for the love of a God he didn’t believe in – get Sam out of his head. Wherever he’d looked she’d been there, following his peripheral view and haunting his brain. Alcohol wasn’t the problem, sure, but neither was Sam. Kevin knew that for a fact, which didn’t make a single thing easier to handle because the problem was obvious. Clear and imminent and painstakingly ironic. 

The problem wasn’t alcohol or Sam or Connor or Steve’s apartment, no. The problem was Kevin Price, in all his despicable glory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me write about working in finance without the tiniest clue, but hey, I've seen the movies. That's actually not true, so I guess take everything about Kevin's job with a handful of salt. 
> 
> I fell in love with @afterafternoons amazing astrology/personality charts of some of the Book of Mormon characters (and how incredibly accurate they are) so I just had to include it in here somewhere. If you haven't seen them, you should def check them out. They're so beautiful, I am in love and here's the link: https://afterafternoons.tumblr.com/post/190576508471 (I have no idea how to make that clickable, and I'm too lazy to find out if it's even possible right about now)
> 
> As always, hope you liked the chapter! It might take a bit longer until the next one drops, because I've once again neglected studying and have to write a 10k essay in just under two weeks, so that's nice. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or drop by @sprinkleofharries on tumblr, thank you for reading!


	11. Fine, My Ass

There were many things to be said about the Gladstone account, but the only thing that really mattered to Kevin was the power that came with it. Power that could turn his job around completely, if he played his cards right. And Kevin had just been dealt an unbeatable hand. 

_“First in command,”_ Chris had smiled at him when he’d assigned Kevin the case. _“Don’t let me down.”_

Kevin wasn’t going to, he couldn’t, or all had been for naught. 

He was perched on his seat, working away as someone tapped his shoulder. Expecting it to be Marius, or May, or another one of his colleagues, he neglected to spin around and greet them, offering a _yeah?_ while keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him. 

“Looks good.” Kevin snapped his head around at Connor’s voice, almost giving himself whiplash. “But then again I know jack shit about… whatever that is.”

“Connor,” Kevin stared. “What are you doing here?”

Kevin noticed a wave of hesitation in Connor’s eyes and he immediately regretted his words, and even more so the snappy tone they’d carried. 

“I was in the area, Arnold let me in since you wouldn’t answer your phone,” Connor shrugged. “You’ve seen my workplace like a thousand times, thought it was about time I got to see yours.” 

Kevin stood up, quickly glancing around the office as he did so, and Connor clearly noticed but smiled all the same. His boyfriend leaned in slightly and Kevin cursed how fast he’d jerked away. 

“Not here,” he said quietly, once again scanning the room for prying eyes.

Connor narrowed his eyes as he looked Kevin over, confusion clouding his face as he hesitated to speak. Kevin felt awful. He could see the hurt in Connor’s eyes but this was his _workplace_ , they were surrounded by his _coworkers_ , people who would take _any_ chance they got to overthrow Kevin, especially after acquiring his latest client. He couldn’t risk looking vulnerable, and it killed him inside how easy the decision had been. 

“What are you-“

“Price, I need you in the conference- oh, hello,” Marius stopped himself when he noticed Connor. “Didn’t know you had company. I’m Marius.”

Connor, who had been taken slightly off guard, reached out and shook his hand. “Connor,” he smiled politely. “Kevin’s-“

“Friend.” The word left Kevin’s mouth before he’d even processed what was happening, and the way Connor froze beside him, the way he clenched his jaw and forced a tight smile before speaking a _right, friend_ through gritted teeth made Kevin’s heart drop to his feet. 

“Well, good to meet you, Connor” Marius smiled back, seemingly oblivious to the tension as he turned back to Kevin. “Meeting’s about to start, but I could push it five minutes if you want to take a quick break.”

Kevin was about to answer, but Connor beat him to it. “No need,” he said. “I was just heading out anyway. It was nice to meet you too.”

Marius nodded once, before turning on his heel and heading for the conference room. Kevin winced internally as he turned to Connor whose eyes were as cold as his father’s touch. 

“Con,” he started but was quickly interrupted. 

“Leave it,” Connor said matter-of-factly. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, alright?”

“Whatever.” 

At that, Connor had turned and walked out, leaving Kevin with the feeling of complete and utter remorse as he dragged himself to the conference room. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Connor to be there, he just didn’t want his colleagues to know _everything_ about him. Even if that included the person who’d rapidly become the most important thing in Kevin’s life. 

Work and private life should be kept apart, that’s all it was. 

He took a seat next to Marius as Chris started the meeting, but Kevin couldn’t focus. He barely heard a word coming from his boss’s mouth, no matter how hard he tried to shake the awful feeling in his chest. Connor’s voice replayed in his head and all he could see was the hurt in his eyes when Kevin had called him a friend. 

“Kevin?” Chris’s voice jerked him back to reality, noticing first now that the conference room had emptied, Kevin the only one remaining seated. “Are you okay?”

Kevin forced a smile as he stood up, hoping Chris hadn’t noticed his lack of concentration during the meeting. “I’m fine,” he said, and though Chris’s eyes seemed doubtful, his boss simply nodded and left the room. 

On the way back to his desk, a voice caught Kevin’s attention. That familiar snide tone paired with those condescending eyes were aimed right at him, and Kevin turned around as Andrew stepped closer. 

“Hey, I never got the chance to congratulate you on getting Gladstone.” Andrew was smiling, but Kevin found no comfort in the compliment whatsoever. “That is truly amazing, calls for a celebration, don’t you think?” 

Kevin narrowed his eyes. Unsure what to make of Andrew’s words, he spoke slowly, “Thanks. I think.”

“Listen, the guys are headed to Club 55 after work, why don’t you join us?” Andrew suggested, much to Kevin’s surprise – and suspicion. 

“I’m not sure I should, uh,” Kevin started and cursed how insecure he sounded. 

“Oh, c’mon Price,” Andrew put his arm on Kevin’s shoulder, leading him back to his desk as he coaxed. “You’re part of the team now, of course you’re coming.”

Before he knew it, they were stood at Kevin’s desk and for reasons beyond him, he agreed to go and received a firm slap on the back that he wasn’t sure was supposed to be supportive or demeaning. Andrew disappeared back to his station and Kevin sat down with a strange feeling in his gut. Maybe it was a good thing? Getting all chummy with his colleagues would enhance his chances of rising the ranks, but then again, he’d always held on tight to the belief that work and private life are not supposed to mesh, at all. 

Besides, why did Andrew invite him _now_? None of them had before, at least not in so many words. Sure, they had discussed going out for a few drinks while Kevin was present, but no one had ever explicitly asked him to join, and Kevin never invited himself anywhere. Another imprint of his upbringing he seemed unable to shake. 

After a moment’s thought, he decided to go, regardless of the off chance it being a way for Andrew to degrade him. If it was an opportunity for Andrew, it was for Kevin too, and though the playing field might be uneven, Kevin was not one to walk away from a challenge.

\--- 

Once his shift had ended and he’d clocked out for the day, Kevin found himself at a table – drink in hand more expensive than his shirt – surrounded by people he hated. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, he was sort of enjoying himself. The exclusivity of the bar, the fancy drinks and lavish food, the entire atmosphere of glitz and glamour, or even more so, the privilege that hung like a buffalo’s head on a trophy hunter’s wall. It was an exhibition, as far as Kevin was concerned, of wealth and power and the entitlement that came with it. Kevin, though invited and seemingly getting away with blending in, was on display for all to see. He knew he should feel like a monkey in a cage, but either his company or his appearance worked in his favor because soon it was as if he belonged with the spectators. 

He didn’t like it, still, the thought that he could get used to it made him sick to his stomach. 

The conversations were dry, derogatory, and decisively absurd, everything from work to family to infidelity being thrown out in the air as if they were discussing the weather. Kevin wasn’t contributing with much other than a sharp comment or forced laughter here and there, but no one seemed to mind. 

“Good news, lads,” Benjamin said as he returned with a round of drinks for the table. “The babysitter is staying the night, so bottoms up.” 

“Glad to hear it, but I thought Rachel had the kids this week,” Marius said. 

“She does,” Benjamin sneered, and the table erupted into howling laughter. 

Apparently sleeping with your children’s barely legal babysitter is cause for celebration. Kevin obliged, the sound leaving his throat barely passing as a chuckle. 

“What about you, Price?” Andrew turned to him with _ulterior motives_ written in bold across his face. “You still seeing that doctor of yours?”

Kevin instantly regretted ever mentioning Sam at work and was surprised Andrew even remembered. “No,” he started. “Didn’t really feel it.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie. 

Andrew sneered. “Well then, a free man!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you try your luck with those college girls over there? If there’s one thing I know, it’s that sorority girls can _party_.”

Kevin turned his head in the direction of Andrew’s finger, his eyes landing on a group of blonde twenty-somethings with inconceivably high heels and immodestly short skirts. _It’s February_ , was the only thing Kevin could think about, _and they’re wearing skirts_. 

“Another time, maybe,” Kevin lied when he turned back to his colleagues, trying to conceal the uninspired look on his face. “Got plans tomorrow.”

His coworkers exchanged a few glances that Kevin knew said _that’s never stopped us before_ , but he chose to ignore them. He could play along and act his part, but the thought of even humoring Andrew’s suggestion made his stomach turn. 

Instead, he downed his drink and offered to pay for the next round so he could get a minute to collect himself. He could hear Naba’s voice in his head telling him to go easy on the alcohol, but how was he meant to survive the night sober? 

He wasn’t, was the short answer, and the answer Kevin ultimately opted for. One more drink couldn’t possibly do any harm. 

Three hours later, Kevin stumbled out of the elevator, fumbling with his keys for at least two minutes before he finally got the lock to turn and the door to open. The apartment was quiet, and Kevin tried to the best of his ability to make as little sound as possible, but he was well drunk and his feet refused to work with him as they carried him toward the bedroom, only grazing the doorframe with his shoulder. 

Connor was lying on what had become his side of the bed, with his back toward Kevin, and the way he didn’t acknowledge his presence made Kevin assume he was sleeping. He got undressed in the least graceful fashion one could, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt until he finally gave up and crawled into bed half-dressed. He snuggled up to Connor who woke up at his touch, as Kevin planted sloppy kisses along his neck. 

Connor hummed quietly before he froze and turned around. “God, Kevin, you reek,” he said, dodging Kevin’s lustful lips. “Have you been drinking?”

“The guys invited me for a coupla drinks.” If Kevin hadn’t been as intoxicated as he was, he’d be embarrassed over the slurring. 

Connor only frowned in response, and Kevin seized the opportunity to kiss him, but Connor gently pushed him back with a quiet groan. “Stop,” he said simply, not conceding despite Kevin’s pout.

“C’mon, Connor,” Kevin whispered against Connor’s collarbones, leaving chaste kisses wherever his lips landed. “I’m horny.”

Connor scoffed and turned back around. “Tough luck. I’m not.”

Kevin propped himself up on one elbow, a loud hiccup escaping his throat. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Kevin,” he said, his voice sharp and biting. “What would I be mad about? Apparently, I’m just your _friend_.”

Even though it had happened only hours ago, Kevin had almost forgotten Connor’s visit, and with it, Kevin’s hurtful excuse about their relationship. The memory came back like a slap across his face and he could feel the skin on his cheeks burn red, but the alcohol in his veins made him numb to the feeling and he found himself getting more agitated than remorseful.

“That’s what this is about?” he said. “Jesus, Con, you know I try to keep my work and personal life separate. They barely even know I’m friends with Arnold and he works there.”

Connor turned back around, his blue eyes glowing in the dark. “Well, do you know who they’re dating?”

Kevin considered him for a moment, struggling to keep a small smirk from curling his lips. “I know who they’re having affairs with,” he said dryly.

Connor wasn’t amused though, and Kevin could see him rolling his eyes despite the lack of light. “Cute.” 

Kevin tilted his head, keeping his eyes locked with Connor’s who only watched with a bored, if not disgusted, look on his face. Connor gave no indication of giving in, but he didn’t turn away either, he simply stared at Kevin expectantly as the silence grew between them. It felt wrong. Flashbacks to Vermont where Connor had watched him with such loathing and spat his words in Kevin’s face before they started their little affair played in his head. Before they kissed when Connor had been so _mad_ , felt so _betrayed_ , even if he never said it out loud, Kevin could see it in his face. And now, that Connor was back, staring daggers through his heart and Kevin wanted to erase this entire day from existence. 

“I said I was gonna make it up to you,” he said in a low voice, as Connor countered with a frown. 

“And I told you I wasn’t going to be your secret.” 

_Ouch_ , was all Kevin’s brain could muster.

“Don’t be like that, Con,” he groaned, though the sound came out more pleading than he’d intended. “The people I work with don’t have to know everything about me.”

“Did they know about Sam?”

Kevin stopped, realizing that, _sure_ , they did know about Sam, and _sure_ , that made this a thousand times worse, but his colleagues knowing anything about his personal life wasn’t for lack of trying to hide it. It had slipped out, stupidly and in passing weeks ago when Kevin had told them about his ski trip. He never thought it would matter like this, never expected to have to justify it to anyone, much less Connor, and he berated himself for opening his mouth in the first place. 

Apparently, the look on Kevin’s face was speaking volumes, because he hadn’t even responded when Connor hastily got out of bed.

“Connor-“

“No, you know what?” Connor snapped. “I’m sleeping at my place tonight.”

“It’s two in the morning, Connor, don’t-“ Kevin cut himself off as Connor left the bedroom, scrambling to his feet to follow. “Don’t be ridiculous, hey.”

He didn’t make it over the threshold before Connor turned back around, walking with firm steps until stopping barely an inch away. His face was red and his chest heaving, but the anger in his eyes was what killed Kevin inside. 

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Connor said after a moment. “Good night.” 

With that, Connor slammed the door right in Kevin’s face and he flinched as it almost came crashing into his nose. He could hear Connor collapsing onto the sofa, and he was torn between wanting to make everything right and not knowing how to. No words his brain produced right now could ever mend what he’d broken, the alcohol still pulsating through his bloodstream made it difficult to say _anything_ , let alone apologize, at least in a way that would seem sincere. 

He remained standing in front of the door for god knows how long, time had slipped out of his grasp as soon as he’d crawled into bed. Usually, that was a good thing. Usually, that meant lying beside, on top, beneath Connor for hours on end until any basic needs forced them to get up. Now, it meant sleeping alone in a cold bed that he’d so foolishly, yet so meticulously, made for himself. 

Needless to say, Kevin did not sleep that night. 

\--- 

The sun was sadistically bright as it forced its way through Kevin’s closed eyelids, waking him from the state of unconsciousness not qualifying as sleeping, but rather an extended nap, falling in and out of what he could only describe as a Hell Dream, despite not having had one in years. Perhaps the alcohol was toying with his brain, making him feel guilty for things he thought he’d accepted. Or maybe he just felt shit because of the way he treated Connor. 

_Shit._

Kevin quickly rolled over to check if Connor was still sleeping on the couch but stopped when he noticed the note on his bedside table. It was perched against a glass of water, next to it a pack of aspirin. It only made Kevin feel worse, and he anticipated the worst when unfolding the piece of paper, his guts turning inside of him. 

_At work, getting off at 6  
There’s leftover pizza in the fridge, I’ll pick something up on my way back  
Talk later  
Con x_

There was a flurry of emotions swirling around inside Kevin’s head, guilt, confusion, endearment, all tangled and loud and grazing his temporal lobe, resulting in an unrelenting itch Kevin couldn’t, despite his many attempts, scratch. He swallowed the aspirin and made for the kitchen, thankful for having the day off and not having to cook. How the pizza had ended up in his fridge, he wasn’t sure. Unless, _no…_

Unless Connor ordered it last night since Kevin didn’t get home until two in the morning. Had he even texted Connor saying he’d be late? He dug the phone out of his jacket where he’d left it on the floor when he got back, checking his messages and holding his breath that maybe, hopefully- 

Fuck. 

He hadn’t even gotten drunk yet, and he couldn’t be bothered to send a text to his boyfriend. A sudden urge to throw up hit him like a ton of bricks, and he barely made it to the bathroom before emptying his guts. 

Saturdays were normally Kevin’s favorite, but so far, this one had not delivered. 

\--- 

Kevin had been pacing the floor for the better half of an hour when his ringtone interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t really have to check, because old habits and all that, but he did either way and was not surprised by seeing Arnold’s name across the screen.

“Hey, Arn,” he said, falling back into the route he’d been walking, round the sofa, to the window, the kitchen, past his bedroom, round the sofa, to the window-

“What’s up, buddy! You free today?”

Kevin glanced at the clock; it was only 1pm. Dammit. “Yeah, I’m not feeling too hot tho-“

“Yeah, I know,” Arnold said, making Kevin stop dead in his tracks.

“What?” 

“Oh, uhhh, you sound a bit hoarse is all,” Arnold chuckled, but Kevin knew Arnold well enough to tell it wasn’t really genuine, rather nervous. “Why don’t you come over? We can play some games, watch a movie, talk about some _stuff_.”

“Stuff? Did you have anything special in mind or are you just being vague for the fun of it?” Kevin asked, his voice coming out a lot harsher than intended. There was just something about the way Arnold acted, he seemed off, and that was a very rare thing for Arnold to be. 

“I just miss you, pal.” Arnold definitely heard the sharpness in his tone, and Kevin immediately felt bad. “It’s been a while.”

“Alright,” Kevin acquiesced, making sure to sound softer. “I’ll be over in thirty.”

“Awesome! See you soon, bud!”

Kevin was reluctant to go anywhere, the hangover still beating the inside of his skull black and blue, but then again, Arnold might be able to take his mind off things for a while. If he stayed in his apartment, he’d just pace the floor until Connor got back, and then all that thinking would still have been useless because Kevin was sure his mind would go blank as soon as he saw his boyfriend. 

His _boyfriend_. Why didn’t he just tell Marius in the first place? Perhaps he was exaggerating his coworkers’ lack of understanding and human decency, perhaps they would have no problem with Kevin having a boyfriend at all, perhaps it was all inside Kevin’s head and that voice in the back of his mind that sounded eerily like his father was the one planting falsehoods in his train of thought. Perhaps he should just jump out the window to shut it up. 

He went through the door instead, in a rush to get outside but not in a hurry to get to Arnold’s place. Taking a deep breath, the crisp winter air filled his lungs and the icy feeling warmed his heart in listless irony. Despite his many attempts, the thoughts were still incessantly bouncing off the walls of his brain, every impact sending a shock of pain through his body that left his bones feeling hollow and numb. It was like every single repressed memory was fighting for his attention, from the look on Sam’s face when he told her about Connor, to his father’s disappointed eyes when he’d neglected scripture study and crammed for his exams instead, even to Andrew’s derisive sneer when he’d taken over the Roberts case. Kevin wanted to blow his brains out, but opted for pressing his eyes shut tightly instead, focusing on the movement of the train, cataloging every turn, every bump, every stop. 

Before he knew it, he was stepping off the subway and soon he was stood outside Arnold’s apartment. The thoughts were duller now, but they weren’t gone. They were never truly gone. 

“Hey, buddy!” Arnold greeted him with a beaming grin and outstretched arms, pulling him in for his trademark hug: too tight, too long, and too much swaying. Kevin didn’t like the swaying, it felt too intimate, but then again, Arnold and boundaries weren’t really compatible. 

Kevin smiled when his friend finally pulled away, noticing Naba perched against the kitchen doorframe. He gave her a quick nod and relaxed slightly when she reciprocated with a smile. He hadn’t spoken to her since the hospital and in all honesty, he was worried that he’d let slip his whereabouts last night, fully aware that he’d promised her he wouldn’t drink for a while. 

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come up. 

They made their way into the living room, Kevin taking a seat on the couch and shooting them both a puzzled look when they sat down next to each other on the chaise part of the sofa opposite him. There was clearly enough room between them and Kevin, so he didn’t understand why they’d left such a distance, but he would soon be informed and boy, was he in for a ride. 

“So,” Arnold started, glancing over at Naba who seemed a lot more collected as she watched Kevin squirm in his seat. “We talked to Connor this morning.” 

_Of course._

“We’re worried about you, Kevin,” Naba continued, the expression on her face serious yet soft enough to convey her concern. It made Kevin’s stomach turn. “You said you wouldn’t drink for a while and then you went out and got shitfaced within two weeks.”

“I,” Kevin started, but he was unsure where he was going with the sentence and so he sighed instead. 

“Look, I get your job is stressful and all, but you seem… Different,” Arnold said, and there was something innately strange in hearing his voice be so low, so careful. “Maybe you’re taking on too much?”

Kevin laughed at that, the sound harsh and bitter, like nails against a blackboard. “I’m not taking on _enough_ , is rather the case,” he said, earning a collective frown from the pair opposite him. 

“You’re going to burn out if you continue like this,” Naba warned. “I see it happen all the time, people coming in because they’ve worked themselves to the very brink, or because of anxiety attacks and depression, aching, chest pains, insomnia, you name it. And like you, they rarely admit to overworking, blaming the symptoms on anything else. It’s not healthy, Kevin.”

“I’m _fine_.” 

“Fine, my ass-“

“ _Okay_ , let’s just, look at the facts for a second,” Arnold interjected, placing a hand on Naba’s thigh that earned him an eye-roll, but they both quieted as he continued. “Your work is important to you, we know that and we’re proud of you, bud! Seventh floor! But your health is important to _us_ , and we think, maybe, that your job is what’s causing you to be so on edge all the time.”

“He thinks, I’m certain,” Naba added. “Would you just let me schedule you with Dr. Jones, she’s incredibly good at her job and I’m sure she’d be able to help you get back on-“

“I don’t need a therapist, alright!” Kevin was on his feet and made for the door before realizing what was happening, ignoring Arnold’s calls behind him as he sprinted down the stairs. 

It was childish, sure, but Kevin could not care less about his lack of maturity and he could definitely not sit and listen to someone tell him what to do for another second. Every fucking person, no exceptions, seemed to know how he should live his life better than he did. Arnold, Naba, Connor, his parents, his boss, his coworkers, everyone, and it drove him to the brink, alright, the brink of insanity, at least. 

Wasn’t it enough that the voice in his head was constantly screaming all the ways he was a failure, pointing out every mistake, every bad decision and every flaw that existed within his body? The incessant hum of _you’re not good enough, you’re never going to be happy, sinner sinner sinner_ that played on repeat from dawn till dusk and starred in every dream, every nightmare from dusk till dawn. On the nights he actually slept, that is. 

Wasn’t it enough that his parents hated him as is, never mind if he told them he was dating a man? Wasn’t it enough that his own brother hadn’t invited him to his wedding? Wasn’t it enough that he felt vines wrap around his chest, the thorns digging holes in his skin, making him bleed out and suffocate all at once yet not at all? 

_Enough, enough, enough-_

The wind was knocked out of him as he collided with someone, the other man spilling apologies as he helped Kevin back on his feet and it took a second before he regained his footing, blinking a few times to stop his head from spinning. 

“Kevin?” Kevin frowned as his eyes came back into focus and landed on – oh, god don’t let it be – his boss. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he forced a smile, which was only reciprocated with a concerned frown. 

“Are you sure? You look a little pale,” Chris said, watching him carefully and for some reason, it vexed Kevin beyond belief. “Bad hangover, or is it something else?”

“Yeah, uh, hungover. That’s it.” Technically not a lie. 

Chris eyed him for a moment longer, and Kevin put way too much effort into avoiding his look. 

“I was just heading out for a late lunch,” he said after a while. “Why don’t you join me?”

Kevin shot him a suspicious glance, but found it was very difficult to keep eye-contact with Chris and resisting the urge to either cry or punch him, Kevin wasn’t sure. “I’ve already eaten,” he blamed.

“Keep me company then,” Chris smiled. “Come on, I know a place.” 

Reluctance, hesitation, and refusal were battling each other in his chest, yet for some reason unbeknownst to Kevin, he acquiesced and followed. 

They reached a small restaurant in only ten minutes and Chris greeted the man behind the counter in such a fashion that Kevin could only assume they knew each other. Chris ordered and took a seat by the windows. Kevin followed suit, sitting down without a word and turning his head to aimlessly watch passersby and avoid any conversation he possibly could. Chris was tapping his fingers on his knees, loud enough for Kevin to hear over the noise from the kitchen, as he hummed to himself. 

It took every muscle in Kevin’s body to restrain the eye-roll that was itching beneath his lids. 

“So, how was Club 55?” Chris asked, forcing Kevin’s attention back to him. “I’ve never actually been, just heard the stories.”

“It was fine,” Kevin shrugged as the memories of last night came flooding back. 

“That seems to be your mantra recently, ‘fine’.” The corner of Chris’s lips twitched upward, but he didn’t commit to the smile, most likely due to the lack of amusement on Kevin’s face. “I’m sure you can think of another adjective. I’ll wait.”

This time Kevin didn’t resist the eye-roll, but to his surprise – and slight dissatisfaction – Chris’s smile only widened. “It was a bit overrated,” he turned his attention to the dessert menu placed on the table, “to be completely honest.”

“Felt out of place?” Chris asked and Kevin gave a _no duh_ nod. “I’ve never been too keen on those places, either. Makes ya feel like a fraud, unless you fit in, of course. Then I’m sure it’s all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, taken a bit by surprise that Chris, his _boss_ , did not submit to the confines of Wall Street hubris and inherited arrogance. 

“So, why’d you go?”

Kevin’s forehead wrinkled as he contemplated the question. Wasn’t it obvious? “Leveling the playing field, I guess.”

Chris’s brows shot up in surprise, nearly doing a doubletake before answering. “I see,” he said, nodding to himself. “How’s that working out for ya?”

“Fine-“ Kevin caught himself as Chris’s lips twitched. “It’s, uh, well, it’s gotten me this far, hasn’t it?”

“S’pose so,” he said just as his food arrived, and Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. Not entirely sure if it was because Chris couldn’t possibly ask as many questions with a stuffed mouth, or because Chris hadn’t pushed him, hadn’t told him that playing the game was going to be undoing and that he clearly wasn’t very fine at all, despite how often the word fell off his tongue. 

Maybe Chris understood. After all, he, if anyone, knew what it was like to be on top of the food chain, and couldn’t blame Kevin for trying to reach the same level. He wasn’t certain, but he would make sure to be nicer to Chris at work from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute, but I got my thesis in, classes are now online and I'm as good as quarantined anyway, so unless writer's block decides to ambush me, there should be updates more frequently! The ending isn't too far, and I've as good as written the last chapter, I just gotta get all the middle stuff down, which is proving more difficult than I anticipated but oh well and all that, it'll be just fine. 
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter despite all the angst, Kevin is apparently bad at feelings??? Who woulda thought??
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, it's always appreciated and it really helps with motivation! 
> 
> Take care and stay safe, see y'all soon x


	12. Do You Take All Your Friends on Romantic Dinners?

Kevin had been pacing the floors for just about an hour when Connor came back – came _home_ , Kevin corrected the voice in his head. Connor shot him an amused, if not befuddled, look when he spotted Kevin just standing in the middle of the room like an insane person, but shrugged and kicked his shoes off either way. The bag in his hand read _Ruby’s_ and Kevin could smell the food from feet away, realizing only now how hungry he actually was.

Connor plopped down on the couch, placing the food on the table beside it without a word, as Kevin stood motionless. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at all, yet somewhere in the back of his head a voice kept telling him Connor would leave, would break up and drop him like a hobby he’d outgrown. 

“Got you a burger,” Connor said as he turned the TV on. “Gluten-free and all.”

Kevin cocked his head toward him, finally coming back to reality as a quiet _oh_ slipped his lips, and Connor’s eyes found his in an instant.

“What, you surprised I remember?” he smirked, patting the seat beside him as Kevin’s legs regained the ability to move.

“Well, yeah,” Kevin chuckled. “Considering even _I_ don’t remember most of the time.”

Connor only smiled, tucking his legs beneath him as he took another bite of his salad that Kevin knew was chicken avocado minus the chicken because Connor was strictly vegan five out of seven days a week, and Kevin couldn’t help but smile back. It felt nice. It felt safe, and the voice was slowly dying out in the back of his head, now only a faint whisper that he could easily ignore for the time being. 

For some reason, they landed on some romcom that Kevin sort of recognized but couldn’t quite place. All he knew was that Jennifer Aniston was in it, and that’s about as far as his knowledge on romantic comedies stretched. Connor was cuddled up against him, his head leaning on Kevin’s shoulder and his thumb drawing circles on the back of his hand, both of them lazily entangled in a blanket because Connor ran cold and Kevin ran hot, and neither were great at compromising. Kevin tilted his head just enough to nuzzle his face in Connor’s hair, soft curls brushing against his skin as he breathed in the scent of Connor. The scent of home, as far as Kevin was concerned. 

“How’s your day been?” Connor asked as the credits rolled, sitting back up with a yawn.

“Weird,” Kevin said, already missing his boyfriend’s body against his own. 

Connor tilted his head as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “Weird how?”

“I had lunch with my boss, for one.” 

Connor’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he stuck a hand out from under the blanket. “Christina or the new guy?”

“New guy.” Kevin intertwined their fingers as Connor hummed. “Chris.”

“Christina and Chris?” Connor giggled and it was the most adorable sound Kevin had ever heard. “That’s convenient.”

Kevin laughed but it died faster than he would have hoped for, as he saw Connor’s eyes shift to a slightly more serious hue, one that Kevin desperately wanted to avoid. 

“So,” Connor started, still holding onto Kevin’s hand. “Last night…?”

It came out a question that Kevin had no idea how to answer. The first step would probably be to apologize, tell him how sorry he was and how bad he felt about the way he’d acted because he knew, he knew so damn well that everything, from not texting Connor before going out with his coworkers, to coming home drunk out of his mind and thinking with his dick rather than his head, it was all bad beyond belief. But how, how on earth could he even begin to express his remorse? Kevin had never been too good at apologizing because he had never really had reason to do it. Ever the perfect son, the perfect Mormon with privilege tattooed on his forehead. He didn’t make mistakes as a child, and even when he did, apologizing was rarely an emotional matter. But now, his tongue was tied in knots he couldn’t undo had he wanted to. 

And he kind of didn’t, anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, but the words were wooden and hollow, and he knew Connor noticed.

“What happened?” 

Kevin’s stomach turned as Connor’s face tried to disguise the hurt, yet he found no words to grasp at, no explanation to shout and no sorrow to spell. A voice in his head screamed at him to just apologize, tell him everything about everything and don’t hold back, don’t deflect, don’t suppress, while another voice told him not to even bother. 

“Kevin,” Connor moved closer and Kevin involuntarily turned away. “I’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated because, for some inane reason, that was all he could get himself to say. 

“I know that already. I’m not fishing for apologies here, Kev, I’m just worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Kevin, look at me,” Connor said, and when Kevin didn’t, he sat on his lap, the way Connor always did and the way Kevin always loved, yet now, it felt awkward and Kevin couldn’t meet his eyes. “You know I’m not gonna let you go until you talk to me.”

“I’m-“

“Sorry? Yeah, I figured.” Connor sounded annoyed by now, and it made part of Kevin feel better. “You were a dick, we both know that, and it’s done, okay? I forgive you, now _talk to me_. I’m your boyfriend for goodness sake, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

Kevin felt his lips tremble and he wasn’t sure why. This entire conversation felt like a can of worms he would be better off not opening. 

“I understand if you’re not ready to, I don’t know, show me off at your workplace,” Connor said, searching for Kevin’s eyes that were expertly avoiding any contact whatsoever. “But I feel like you don’t even want to. That you’d rather keep me a secret, and that hurts, Kevin. You have to know that, right?”

Kevin did. So, so well. 

“It wasn’t easy for me either, you know,” Connor spoke softly, a hand brushing through Kevin’s hair. “But it got easier, and it still gets easier every day. Until I met you…”

Kevin forced his eyes shut as the voices got louder and louder in his head. 

“And I’m- I’m not blaming you, okay? Not even a little bit, it’s just, I promised myself that I wouldn’t go out with someone who wasn’t out, but,” Connor faltered slightly, taking a deep breath before continuing, “But dammit, Kevin, I love you.”

At that, Kevin’s eyes flicked open and found Connor’s in an instant. 

“Hi,” Connor smiled at the sudden attention Kevin offered, as Kevin searched his face for doubt. 

“You do?” he asked, surprised by his own ability to speak.

Connor tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he gave a subtle nod. “I think so.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled Connor closer and spoke with his tongue, making sure the silent response was as honest and true as it felt in his heart. Because he did, despite his reluctance to admit it to the world, he loved Connor, too. So much that it physically hurt him knowing he’d ever caused him any pain, that he’d _knowingly_ caused him pain, and he wanted to apologize in ways words just wouldn’t cut it. 

Connor kissed him back, deeply and slowly, and with so much care that it made Kevin shiver. 

“I love you”, he whispered again, this time followed by a bubbling laugh against Kevin’s lips that made him smile, too. 

He was going to say it back. Soon, or at least as soon as he could find it in himself to be okay with saying it. For now, though, he hoped Connor would settle for the silent promises he could offer, and a part of his brain was breathing out, relieved that he, at least for now, evaded the conversation he’d dreaded. He knew it was still coming, inevitable and terrifying, but if he held Connor close enough, he could just about drown out the thoughts in his head. 

So he did. 

\--- 

It wasn’t quite as exciting as Kevin had hoped, working the Gladstone account. Sure, it came with prestige and an ego boost that made his head double in size, but it also came with insufferable clients and a lot of extra hours. The only silver lining was that Andrew was so obviously bothered by Kevin’s success. Not that he’d ever say it out loud, but the death glares and jeering remarks were all the evidence Kevin needed, and it made the fact that Andrew had poached the Roberts case from his bare hands just a bit less aggravating. 

It was strange yet so very, very satisfying, the way Kevin had grown gills of his own. How he navigated through the office with a dorsal fin and kept climbing that never-ending ladder that felt as though it got higher with every rung he passed. Not to mention how _different_ things had been since Kevin’s first visit at Club 55. He wasn’t just in, he was, for some sadistic, unexplainable reason, enjoying it, too. Perhaps a little too much. 

Ever since his lunch with Chris, his boss had seemed to keep an eye out for him, and it wasn’t in the usual way most of his coworkers watched him, not with their loathsome sneers and wrinkled noses, but rather… Kevin didn’t want to say concern, hated how most people in his life were so baselessly concerned for him, but at a lack for a better word, it would have to suffice. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the help, but he didn’t need babysitting, and for some reason, it felt like everyone was trying to do just that with him recently. Arnold checking in on him twelve times a day, Naba trying to get him to talk to a doctor, Connor who continuously tried to get him to open up about his supposed problems – and Kevin says supposed because they _were_ , no _really_ – and now Chris, offering both help and support without Kevin ever voicing the need for it. 

It was petty and ignorant, Kevin knew, rejecting such obvious attempts at helping him, but it was deep-seated in his brain that Kevin Price does not need help, has never needed help. Kevin Price was something incredible, and incredible did not entail assistance. 

Still, it started to feel lonely. A dark and gloomy presence building in the back of his mind, growing with every passing second until Kevin feared it would encompass his entire being. He knew how to contain certain feelings inside their cages, had trained all his life to repress and subdue, but this was different. This was darker and more forceful, pressing and spiteful in ways Kevin hadn’t experienced before, and perhaps it was the absence of the Church and his family, even though he’d had no one to turn to in years, he also hadn’t had a _reason_ to turn to anyone. College had gone just fine, he’d aced his classes, studied hard, and maintained a few, low-effort acquaintances, but now, he had friends. Friends who required more than an obligatory text once a week, friends who asked him for help and offered a hand without him ever needing to ask, friends who cared enough about his wellbeing to see just how cracked and frail the pieces were. 

He had Connor, and that, in and of itself, should be reason enough to take a good look in the mirror. If Kevin needed to change, it wasn’t for himself, it wasn’t for the Church or his family, it wasn’t for his friends. It was for Connor and only Connor.  
Unfortunately, Kevin found that was a lot easier said than done. 

\--- 

The restaurant was perfect, Kevin had picked it out with intricate care. It was elegant and exclusive, yet subtle enough not to be a hotspot for stuck up socialites, and it was located far, far away from the places his colleagues usually went to. 

It wasn’t much, though, Kevin knew, but it was the best way he could think of to make up for his late nights at work – or late nights _out_ after work – to Connor, even though he was well aware that his boyfriend would rather they just talk things through. Kevin was not quite ready for that, his conscience stained red with guilt.

They were sat at a fairly secluded table, away from the windows and toward the back, which Kevin was reluctantly thankful for, hopefully not so outwardly that Connor noticed too much. The food was fine. Not that Kevin really cared for anything he consumed anymore, he sort of just ate because he had to, needed the nutrition to survive. If it weren’t for that he’d gladly stick to a strictly coffee kind of diet, but alas. 

Connor seemed to enjoy himself, which to Kevin was the most – the _only_ – important part of the visit, and he’d interlocked their fingers as they waited for dessert, chatting away about some Broadway production he was _dying_ to see. _Come From Away_ , Kevin memorized. He’d take Connor as soon as he got a weekend off. 

The night was as close to perfect as Kevin could imagine it being, they were laughing and talking about God knows what, Kevin deliberately diverting the conversation away from anything to do with his job, his parents, or the fact that he was still sneaking glances to check that no one he knew had seen them. 

Which is why he wasn’t just shocked to the core by a voice calling his name, but also utterly dissatisfied with his failure to keep a lookout. 

“Kevin!” Chris greeted him with a smile. “Fancy running into you here.”

Kevin instinctively jerked his hand away from Connor’s, and to his surprise, Connor did the same thing, the look on his face pale as a ghost. He completely forgot to answer, staring dumbly at Connor, his mouth agape and everything, but he couldn’t for the love of all that’s holy figure out why on earth Connor of all people seemed even more startled than Kevin. 

“As I live and breathe,” Chris nearly laughed then. “Elder McKinley, is that you?”

Suddenly, the pieces all fell into place. Connor had mentioned an Elder Thomas from his mission training, mentioned a mission companion he’d developed feelings for which caused him to break down and up and leave. Kevin felt a complete fool for not realizing the connection sooner.

“Gosh, I haven’t seen you since, yeah, since missionary training,” Chris reminisced at a gaping Connor. Kevin could only watch in shock. “How are you these days?”

It took a moment before Connor managed to answer, and when he did, it came out panicked and forced and so very urgently. “Good.” He shot Kevin a quick glance. “How do you two know each other?”

“Oh, we work together!” Chris smiled, his hand landing on Kevin’s shoulder with a squeeze Kevin assumed was meant as friendly but felt more intrusive and quite frankly weird. “Yeah, Kevin just has an exemplary work ethic, kinda reminds me of you back in the day. I can see why the two of you would be drawn to each other.”

Kevin and Connor exchange the briefest of glances and for the first time since they got to know each other, Kevin wasn’t the only one to object to their relationship, as they stumbled over the explanations rolling off their tongues.

“We’re not-“

“We’re just-“ 

Neither finished the sentence, unsure _why_ they even acted as if they weren’t holding hands a mere two minutes ago. Well, Kevin knew the reason behind his own reaction, but seeing Connor so – he wanted to say frightened but felt the word had no place in the scenario at all – it all felt insanely surreal and out of character. 

Chris seemed to pick up on the strange atmosphere and clicked his tongue to break the silence. “Well, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. I should probably get back to the old ball and chain myself, you two have a good night, though,” he said, a softer smile on his face that still radiated that oddly comforting yet overbearing concern Kevin always felt at the office. “And it was very nice running into you again Elder- Sorry, Connor, right?”

“Yeah,” Connor stared.

“It was very nice running into you again, Connor.”

“You too.”

“See you at the office, Price,” Chris turned to Kevin before leaving, and the silence that fell subsequently felt like an eternity and then some to Kevin. 

Dessert arrived but neither of them touched it. Connor was staring into his wine, taking a sip every once in a while but never meeting Kevin’s eyes, never opening his mouth to speak, and Kevin couldn’t blame him because he had no idea where to even begin, had he wanted to.

It all felt so wrong. Chris was a Mormon, his _boss_ was a Mormon, who had, on top of that, done his missionary training with Connor. Not only training, either. They had been _companions_. Well, until Connor had left, that is. Which only brought him to the next item of the evergrowing list of _none of this should be happening why is it happening_ : Connor had left because he had feelings for his mission companion. 

Connor had feelings for Chris. Chris was Kevin’s boss. Connor had feelings for Kevin’s boss. Chris was Mormon. Kevin was gay. Mormons didn’t like gays. Chris was Mormon. Chris didn’t like Kevin. Chris didn’t like _Connor_. Connor had feelings for- 

His brain went on loop after loop until Connor finally cleared his throat and pulled him back to reality. 

“Can we go?” he asked, fidgeting with his sleeve, still not meeting Kevin’s eyes. 

Kevin didn’t answer. Instead, he called a waiter over and asked for the check. 

They left in silence, yet Kevin’s mind was louder than a thousand thunderstorms at once. 

\--- 

They didn’t talk about it, he and Connor. At least not that night, and the next morning Connor left early for work and spent the following night at his former apartment, which, of course, made Kevin’s brain even more paranoid than it already was. 

He slumped in his chair when he got to the office, tired out of his mind since he hadn’t slept a blink that night. Thoughts about whatever Connor was thinking kept circling inside his head, plaguing him with their whispers of _he still likes Chris_ and the rather unsettling feeling that Chris was Mormon and thus, Kevin’s decision not to come out at work seemed wiser than ever. 

He tried his best to stay out of Chris’s sight for the day, ducking away whenever he saw him leave his office, hastily leaving the break room when he saw him approach, and sneaking into the bathroom at least fifteen times when they accidentally made eye contact. Needless to say, the evading only made Chris more persistent. 

“You doing alright?”

Kevin nearly jumped out of his seat at Chris’s voice, his brain going eighty an hour through the roundabout of _Connor had feelings for Chris who is Mormon and thinks being gay is a sin and Kevin is gay therefore Chris doesn’t like Kevin but Connor used to have feelings for Chris and probably still does and will leave Kevin for Chris who is Mormon and Mormons don’t accept gay people and Kevin is gay-_

“Kevin?” Chris spoke again when Kevin only stared.

“Yeah,” he said then, urgently. “I’m fine.” 

Chris let out a humorless breath through his nose as he narrowed his eyes. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, ‘fine’ seems like a stretch to me.”

“No, I’m, uh, I’m alright, just stressed,” Kevin tried his best at a candid smile that only made his boss frown.

“Look, I’m sorry if that was weird the other night. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend.”

Kevin’s eyes widened as they shot around the room, desperately searching for prying ears. “He’s not- We’re not, I mean, we’re just, we’re friends.”

“Really?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “You’re not dating?”

“We’re friends,” Kevin repeated, carefully avoiding both confirmation and denial. 

Chris nodded slowly as if considering Kevin’s words before a subtle smile curled his lips. “So, do you take all your friends on romantic dinners?”

Kevin’s cheeks were undoubtedly red, he could practically feel them burning holes in his skin. “Jesus,” he said in a low voice that nearly came out a whisper. “We weren’t- “

He couldn’t finish the sentence before Marius’s voice interrupted them, and Kevin forcedly cleared his throat, making it burn while Chris only smiled, giving Kevin’s shoulder another _squeeze_ that quite frankly only vexed him more. 

“Price, you got Costello on line four,” Marius said from his desk across the room. “You get the report I sent you?”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll get right on it,” Kevin said, glancing back only to find Chris had already left.

He let out a relieved breath as he picked up the phone, yet the voices in his head kept pestering him, and Chris seemingly not believing Kevin’s lie was only making things worse. 

The call was dull and mechanic, Kevin’s brain relying on autopilot while his subconscious focused on his newfound, rather discouraging mantra. He went through the report in detail, explained their strategy in the politest of manners, and answered questions that felt dumber than usual. All the while his mind was fabricating thousands of reasons why Connor would leave him. 

It was exhausting to say the very least, and once the call ended, he felt as though he had just run a marathon on broken glass. 

\--- 

It was Wednesday when Connor finally came around Kevin’s apartment again, and he would have said _their_ apartment, but he knew for a fact that Connor still had a key to his old place and that his roommates there weren’t actively looking for someone to take over his room. Connor had said it was because they could manage the rent among the three of them, but Kevin couldn’t help but worry there was also a part of Connor that wanted a backup plan. 

Two days had passed since they spoke last, in person at least, and Kevin barely remembered the reason it had been so long because he missed Connor with such pain that he felt it all through his bones. Connor seemed more aware, more reminded of the reason though, but he still hugged Kevin tightly and kissed him hello. 

It meant more than words could ever express. 

“I missed you,” Kevin said regardless, and Connor gave a soft smile. 

“Me too,” he said, pulling Kevin in for another embrace as his expression turned sober. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Kevin whispered into his neck, and he could feel Connor take a shaky breath before they parted. 

Connor was chewing his lip, which Kevin knew usually meant something was on his mind, so he asked him, and Connor considered him for a moment before gesturing toward the couch. They sat down in a silence that ruptured Kevin’s eardrums. 

As the minutes passed, Kevin watched Connor’s mouth open and close a dozen times, his eyes glazed and his left index finger tapping repeatedly against his leg. Kevin didn’t push, wasn’t even sure if there was anything _to_ push, but decided to wait Connor out. He clearly had something he wanted to say, and Kevin wanted to listen, even if he weren’t always the best contender. 

“Chris Thomas,” Connor said suddenly, giving a long enough pause after to make Kevin wonder if that was all he was going to say. “Was my mission companion.”

Kevin nodded slowly, unsure of what to add to such a statement. “I figured,” he said, reaching out and placing a hand atop Connor’s. “Sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”

Connor gave him a dazed look. “I don’t think I ever told you his name,” Connor said. “And I’m guessing he didn’t introduce himself as an Elder or anything.”

Kevin gave a soft laugh as he shook his head. “I didn’t even know he was Mormon.” 

“Has he said anything? About that night, I mean.”

Kevin reflexively bit his lip, thinking back to his conversation with Chris the other day where his boss had asked about their relationship and Kevin had deflected. Should he tell Connor? He hadn’t seemed to want Chris to know that they were together either, as Kevin remembered how Connor had jerked away that time, too. 

“Not really,” he lied. 

“Do you think I should talk to him?” Connor asked, eyes still far away from the here and now they were sitting in. “Should I explain why I just up and left the training center all those years ago?”

“Um,” Kevin stalled, thoughts flying through his head, shouting _no_ and _yes_ and _please don’t leave me_. “I don’t know. Do you want to?”

Connor was quiet for a moment, pondering so clearly, so loudly that Kevin could hear the cogs turn in his head. “I think I do, yeah,” he said, meeting Kevin’s eyes at last. “I always felt sort of bad about it.”

“Oh,” Kevin said dumbly. He didn’t like the idea of Connor and Chris talking one bit, and he wasn’t sure if it was mostly due to his fear of Connor still having feelings for Chris, or the fact that Chris was Mormon and would in that case find out about Kevin’s sexuality. About Kevin’s _sins_. 

“You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?” Connor somehow read his mind and Kevin shook his head dismissively. “Kev, your poker face is literally nonexistent. I can tell you don’t agree.”

“No, I just,” Kevin stumbled over the words, trying his best to spell out the explanation hanging heavy in his brain. “I mean, of course you should talk to him, but, I just, I’m not sure what that would mean… for me.”

Connor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s my _boss_ , Con,” Kevin emphasized, “and he’s _Mormon_. He could fire me, you know.”

“And you think he would fire you over something I did to him five years ago?” Connor raised his eyebrows. “That makes no sense, babe.”

“No, not because of that, I mean-“ Kevin interrupted himself with a sigh. “If he finds out about us, he might- he _can_ fire me, is all I’m saying. I just got that promotion a few months ago and I’m finally starting to thrive at the office, I just don’t want to risk my career is all.”

Connor frowned again and watched Kevin in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time before saying anything else. “You think he’d fire you because you’re gay?” he asked after a while, his eyes narrowed and his words slow. 

“He’s Mormon, would it be that surprising?”

“Yes?” Connor let out a humorless breath. “Yes, I’d be very surprised if _any_ boss at a New York-based investment firm fired an employee for being gay, Kevin. That’s quite literally the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” 

Kevin scoffed. “Are you kidding me?” He raised his eyebrows and when Connor countered with the same expectant expression, he jeered. “No offense, Con, but you have no idea what the people I work with are like.”

“Do you honestly think they’d care?” Connor said, letting a short-lived laugh escape his lips that Kevin took as a personal attack. Because everything was personal to Kevin Price. “This is New York, Kevin. They’re probably not gonna bat an eye, let alone fire you.”

Kevin wasn’t sure why, but he was getting extremely riled up and his blood was as good as boiling in his veins. He tried to remind himself that Connor meant well, that he simply wasn’t too fond of the way Kevin dealt with this situation, but there was repressed anger spilling out of his ears, making it incredibly hard to keep calm and carry on. 

So, he didn’t. 

“No, you don’t get it, alright?” he yelled, _yelled_ at Connor. “That place is like a fucking shark tank, if I show any sign of weakness, they will eat me alive.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Connor got loud as well, crossing his arms in such contempt Kevin never wanted to see in the blue of his eyes. “If you show _weakness_ -“

“Don’t twist my words.” 

“I’m not twisting your words! You said it yourself, you think liking guys is a _weakness_ ,” Connor drawled, curt and cruel and completely called for. “Do you have any idea how insulting that is to me? Your _boyfriend_? Honestly, fuck you, Kevin.”

And something within him snapped at that. Shooting to his feet, Kevin knew his face was red with ire and he didn’t care to hide it. 

“No, you don’t get to say that,” he said. “You don’t get to lecture me on what I can and can’t say!” 

“Oh, grow up, Kevin.”

Tears were burning behind Kevin’s eyes, but he wouldn’t budge, he wouldn’t give Connor whatever sadistic satisfaction he was looking to find, because it didn’t matter, it didn’t fucking matter that his words rang truer than anything Kevin had been telling himself all these years, it didn’t matter that he was desperately in love with Connor, it didn’t matter that he was probably ruining _everything_ in a matter of seconds. So, he pushed further and ignored the voice begging him not to. It didn’t matter, anyway. 

“I changed my whole fucking life for you,” he said, and it sounded an awful lot like regret. “Do you have any idea how hard that’s been?”

Connor remained seated, arms still crossed, and a bored look on his face. “Have a guess.”

Kevin didn’t but managed to calm himself down just enough to consider Connor’s point of view.

“I’ve been force-fed homophobia my entire life. The church really messed me up, but I left, didn’t I?” he said, this time with a quiet voice and pleading eyes. “I left, and I changed, and I’m doing my best, Connor.”

He didn’t want to fight, really. In fact, he didn’t want to talk about this at all, he thought they were both better off not dwelling on the past and the has-been, but Connor had the same look on his face that nearly broke Kevin in half. Eyes cold, jaw clenched, arms crossed. If looks could kill, Kevin was choking on his own tongue. 

“You know you act like you left every bad part of you back in Utah,” Connor spoke after a while, voice calm, yet vicious enough to pierce the skin on Kevin’s wrists. He bled out as Connor watched with indifferent eyes. “You didn’t leave anything, you just moved.” 

Kevin died on the spot, in all ways but physically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while and I'm terribly sorry for that. I've just been extremely busy either studying or stressing about studying while procrastinating every assignment, but oh well. 
> 
> Also sorry for the angst, and fair warning: it's gonna get worse so buckle up and enjoy the ride. 
> 
> I'll try and get the next chapter out soon, but also don't hold me to that because this whole online learning thing is giving me quite some anxiety that I obviously don't handle well, if at all. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and feel free to leave a comment or kudos!


	13. Holding to the Ground as the Ground Keeps Shifting

It was familiar, the feeling of complete desolation. Kevin hadn’t slept for days and he once again felt at peace with New York City. The sirens pouring through his window sounded more and more like a melody with each passing night, the drunken laughter and shouts had begun mixing with the voices in his head until he could no longer tell them apart. He felt as though he was going clinically insane, yet he got out of bed every morning, buried himself in work, and came home every evening, lying awake in his bed as he wallowed in unfounded self-pity. 

He never meant for things to end up like this, miserable and hollow, but they had, and he had no idea how to begin mending what he’d ruined. Even if Connor still came around a few nights a week, still slept beside him and kissed him with wilting passion and desperate urgency, as if he was trying to savor every moment. It felt as though Connor knew something Kevin didn’t. It felt as though Connor thought he was losing him.

And in a strange, heartbreaking way, Kevin thought maybe he was. 

Kevin felt nothing like the person who met Connor all those months ago at Birch. He felt like an impostor in his own skin; as if his emotions and psyche had been torn apart and were fighting for control of his body, while he watched the one version of himself he didn’t completely loathe, crumble and die. 

Connor had fallen in love with that Kevin, not the one he was before and not the one he’d become, but the Kevin that wanted to be true to himself, wanted to express and feel and love and care, the Kevin that someday wanted to be comfortable enough to hold his hand in public without the fear of being watched. 

And that part of Kevin was fading faster than he wanted to believe.

_“Quand on a pas ce que l’on aime, il faut aimer ce que l’on a,”_ rang through his ears. The words Connor had told him in Vermont that he had almost forgotten, but somehow remembered to ask him about a few weeks later. _“When we have not what we love, we must love what we have,”_ Connor had said it meant, and though at the time it had been because they were both with other people, it still felt more accurate now than ever.

Connor loved a version of Kevin that no longer existed, so he settled for loving the one that still did. 

\--- 

“I talked to Chris,” Connor said after they’d been watching TV in silence for well over an hour. 

Kevin froze for a moment before looking over to the other end of the couch, only to find a tense Connor with fidgeting hands. “You did?” he asked, hesitation hanging heavy in his voice.

Connor nodded as he watched Kevin with cautious eyes. “I needed to apologize.”

Kevin pressed his lips together. Hard. Until he was certain they had gone white, and then he parted them with such clear disapproval that he thought even his neighbors heard the click of his tongue. “Well,” he started, and could already see the hurt unfolding in Connor’s eyes, “that’s, good for you.”

It wasn’t meant to sound so condescending, as if he had no care for Connor’s feelings or needs whatsoever, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and if he were honest, they had been hot and waiting at the tip of his tongue for days now. 

“He’s not gonna fire you, Kevin,” Connor rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the TV when Kevin shot him a challenging look. 

Instead of asking why not, Kevin scoffed. “You don’t know that.”

“You know, I kind of really do.” His voice grew louder but softened almost instantly. “He’s gay, Kev.”

Kevin froze again, eyes locked to Connor’s that were searching his face for God knows what. Had he heard right? Had Connor really said Chris – his _boss_ – was gay? It made no sense, no sense at all, Kevin thought, and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. “What?” Was all he mustered, and it was quiet and curious and quivering. 

“Yeah,” Connor simply shrugged. “Apparently he fell in love with someone on his mission. They’re married now.”

It was too much, for some cruel and taunting reason. Sure, knowing that his boss would probably not even blink at finding out about Kevin’s sexuality was comforting, _should_ be comforting, at the very least, still, Kevin felt nauseous and quite frankly deceived. They had no right, he thought, no right at all, shoving their acceptance and pride in his face like this, not when he felt like dying every time the thought crossed his mind. It wasn’t fair, and the voice that resembled his father was laughing. 

“So, he won’t fire you,” Connor said, keeping his eyes on the TV but visibly relaxing into the couch. “I even asked him, so, trust me. For once.”

\--- 

Why was it the world was so peaceful when everything was falling apart? The sun shone brighter than ever, people smiled, some even greeted him on the street, flowers bloomed and blossomed all around him as he walked to work. How did no one else notice the apocalyptic atmosphere, the daunting desolation, and impending doom? 

Children were laughing and it sounded like warning bells, music was pouring through open windows and balconies and it sounded like a swan song if Kevin had ever heard one. The world was upside down and gravity only seemed to affect him. 

And if anything, it made him madder than ever. 

As he opened the front door to his workplace, he heard a voice calling from behind, and it sounded loud and shrill and shrieking, but he knew it wasn’t. 

“Hey, bud!” Arnold beamed when he reached him. “Haven’t seen you in a while, you doing alright?”

Kevin nodded, hoping _I’m lying_ wasn’t too evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I haven’t called or anything, there’s just, a lot going on right now.”

Arnold’s expression turned a bit somber at that, yet he smiled carefully with way too cautious eyes. “I heard. Connor says you’re having trouble sleeping again.”

“Of course, he did,” Kevin laughs without a trace of humor, and honestly, it just sounds cruel. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need babysitting, you know.”

Perhaps it was unfair, blaming everybody but himself like this as if the sole reason for his misery wasn’t his own doing. Perhaps it was unkind, shaming his best friend for showing nothing but concern. Perhaps it was unseemly, claiming to be fine when the smallest of comments managed to make him go off the rails. 

Perhaps it was a lot of things, and perhaps Kevin was done caring. 

“Naba could probably prescribe you something, but she’d probably want you to see someone first,” Arnold said, voice so, _so_ wary. “You know, my mom goes to therapy. She says it’s really helped her work through some things, so you don’t need to-“

“I’m _fine_ , Arnold,” Kevin urged, and Arnold promptly shut his mouth, seemingly taken aback by the tone of Kevin’s voice. He felt bad, he really did. Or at least he wanted to, so he forced himself to soften if only but a little. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get to work. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

Arnold nodded slowly, watching Kevin with what now resembled fear, or perhaps sadness, Kevin wasn’t sure. Regardless of which, he told him goodbye and headed for the staircase. For some reason, he felt like he needed to blow off some steam on his way up. 

The day didn’t exactly get better from there on out, because in what world would Kevin’s life be _easy_. The office was still as shallow and unwelcoming, derisive glares and snide comments, and unsurprisingly, Kevin hated every second of every minute of every hour, yet he couldn’t help but take comfort in the way no one cared whether he smiled or flung himself out the window. 

Well, everyone but Chris, that is. 

“Hard at work, I see,” Chris smiled as he approached Kevin at his desk, where he’d spent the past five minutes staring outside, just _considering_. “You alright?” 

“ _I’m fine._ ” 

Chris’s expression didn’t change at Kevin’s exasperation, he simply shrugged and crossed his arms. “You know, I talked to Connor the other day, and-“

“ _I know._ ”

Perhaps it was unfair, Kevin thought when Chris narrowed his eyes at him. Perhaps a lot of things were. 

“If I’ve done something to upset you, Kevin, I’d rather you just tell me.” 

Kevin didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back around in his seat, picked up the file he was going through, and ignored Chris’s presence until he heard him leave. 

Perhaps, _oh who gives a shit_. 

\--- 

He knew it was stupid – beyond stupid – to push away his friends and offend his boss. He knew it was dumb and vicious and unfounded, but what the hell did it matter. Something had snapped inside him and it felt liberating in the worst of ways, but it definitely felt like a long time coming. 

Kevin rarely lost his head completely, and when he did, he had always had reason enough to justify the means. Like when he’d returned from his mission as a failure in his parents’ eyes, told them he wanted to go to Eastern Michigan University instead of Brigham Young, and they had shaken their heads in disapproval, condemned him for not walking the path they had laid out before him, and practically shunned him from their family. Kevin had snapped then, before he left for college, and it wasn’t pretty at all, no, it was nasty and spiteful and his mother had cried. He still hadn’t made amends for that, but then again, neither had his parents. 

In college, he’d barely gotten close enough to anyone to even lose his temper in the first place, and the only close call he’d had was when a girl in his study group brought up his so-called faith – and it goes without saying that Kevin had tried his damnedest to hide any indication of still technically being Mormon – and asked him why he would ever willingly allow himself to be brainwashed like that. Kevin had been so close, so, _so_ close to punching her square in the face right there and then, but had come to his senses before any real damage was done and managed to convince her he was still a member for show only, and thankfully, she’d bought it. 

The truth was Kevin didn’t want to leave the Church. Not really, or at least not for the sole reason of spiting his parents. If Kevin were to leave, it had to come from himself and though he was ashamed to admit it, he still found solace in knowing he was part of something bigger, something incredible, however crass it sounded. He didn’t agree with a lot of the teachings, didn’t see why coffee and same-sex relationships were strictly prohibited and looked down upon. He didn’t agree and he didn’t understand, but in no reality would he consider himself brainwashed. 

After all, he’d never been sent to conversion therapy or anything like the sort. Sure, his parents had made very clear their opinions on any romance that didn’t follow the boy-meets-girl-and-they-live-happily-ever-after narrative, and though he knew spewing such bigotry around children was never good, he knew better than to blindly trust _anyone_. 

He had had enough influences around him that told him it was okay to be different, teachers that told him he didn't have to agree with everything the Church had taught him, that being critical to sources and not believing things purely because he was supposed to, was only natural and something they rather encouraged than denounced, and after Uganda, after seeing what poverty and famine looked like with his own eyes instead of through a TV screen, he realized just how right they were. He realized that people lied – Mormons included – and that the world was cruel and God merciless, that changing the world would take more than a positive mindset and pure, irrefutable faith, but he also realized that believing in something, for the good rather than the bad, often granted him the support he needed when nothing else would. Only in the darkest of times would Kevin pray, and though it always felt forced and imagined, he felt as though someone – and he wasn't sure if it was _a_ God or several or none at all – listened without judgment, allowing him to bare his soul in the briefest moments of weakness. 

And he thought, perhaps that was what religion was really all about. Or at least it was to him.

But that wasn't fair, either. Not to Connor or anyone that experienced similar things because of their faith. The very fact that Connor had been through hell because of his religion while Kevin still defended the Church and had made no plan to leave just yet, more than he already had, anyway, felt as far away from fair as he could possibly get. He found himself in some strange state of limbo, not a Mormon yet still, _technically_ , a member, and he knew he could never have the best of both worlds. Inevitably, he’d have to choose between his faith and Connor, and that decision felt like choking on thumbtacks.

“How was your day?” he asked softly when Connor crawled into bed that night. They still weren’t on the best of terms, things were still very tense between them, and Kevin felt awful. It was all his fault and he knew it; he knew it so well that he saw no point to redress the situation. 

“Not great,” Connor smiled with sad eyes, and Kevin felt a nail pierce his skin. “I went to an audition and completely botched it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Kevin tried, but Connor only laughed wistfully.

“It really was, I forgot the lyrics and could barely keep from crying,” he said, and Kevin thought that maybe, he saw tears pressing behind his eyes now as well. “I’m just so in my head all the time, you know? I can’t focus on anything because I’m constantly thinking about, well, you.”

In another reality, that statement would have been heartfelt and sweet. In this one, it felt more like an accusation. 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin blurted, too fast for it to sound sincere and he reached out to grab Connor’s hand to compensate. “I never meant to ruin your life, Con.”

“God, Kevin, you’re not,” Connor sighed, shaking his head with that same dismal smile on his face. “Is that what you think? That you’ve ruined my life?”

Kevin only nodded, as he found no words to confirm the question. 

“That’s stupid,” Connor whispered, moving closer to him so Kevin could feel his breath against his skin. He couldn’t help but shiver, despite the melancholy tension. “I love you, remember? I just hate seeing you like this, is all.”

Kevin wanted to lean in, wanted to kiss the hurt away from Connor’s face and tell him he was going to change. He wanted to hold him close enough to feel his heartbeat and align their breathing so that maybe, it wouldn’t be as hard to keep his steady. He wanted to love Connor in the way Connor loved him, and he wanted to profess it to the world, scream it from the rooftops and paint it in the sky. 

But instead, he said nothing. 

\--- 

Another week passed with the same dull routine of sleepless nights followed by heaps of work, and on it went. Kevin felt as though he was stuck in his own Groundhog Day loop, only he didn’t sleep at all. 

His apartment felt lonelier with every night Connor spent away, making his office – as ironic as it sounded – the place he felt more comfortable lately. There weren’t any what-ifs at work, everything was the same as always, and the familiarity was the one thing keeping Kevin together right now. He knew just what was expected of him, knew how to present himself to his clients and how to smile during breaks. He knew he was making progress due to the way Andrew hovered around him, waiting for a moment to pounce that Kevin was dead set on never offering. 

His only problem at work was Chris because Chris was the only one there that seemed interested to get to know Kevin beyond the office, and that was the very last thing Kevin wanted. 

Still, he couldn’t snap, it wasn’t worth it because if he did, he’d surely lose everything he’d worked so hard to get. It was just so infuriating, the way Chris watched him with wary eyes and asked him more times than necessary if he was doing okay. 

Kevin was always doing okay, because okay in his book simply meant surviving. 

“Kevin,” Chris said right on cue, appearing in his peripheral view. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Kevin said, looking up at his boss expectantly. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Chris smiled, nodding his head in the direction of his office. “But I think I have some good news. Come on.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his forehead as he stared Chris down. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but followed him reluctantly, a part of him lighting up with hope he didn’t know still existed. 

“Have a seat,” Chris gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk, as he walked around to his own. Kevin complied, although hesitantly, shooting a questioning look at the smile he was faced with. “I want you to leave the Gladstone account.”

Kevin had to do a doubletake at that, in what world was that _good news_? 

“What?” 

“How would you like to have Roberts back?” Chris asked instead of explaining, to which Kevin frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

“He called this morning, requesting you specifically,” Chris leaned forward, elbows resting on the table and his chin on his entwined fingers as he watched Kevin. “Apparently you made quite an impression.”

“Oh,” Kevin deadpanned, because what else could he do, really.

“But I can’t have you on both him and Gladstone, that’s too big a workload, so the choice is yours.”

Kevin wasn’t sure what to say. All he’d ever wanted since Andrews snagged the case from him was to get Roberts back, if only for the principle of it, but then again, leaving Gladstone most likely meant someone else – _possibly Andrew_ – would take over his position, and he couldn’t bear to watch that happen. “I can do both,” he said instead, hearing himself doubt his very own words. “Marius can take lead instead, but I can still be on the account.”

Chris considered him for a moment, eyes burning holes through Kevin’s facade before he acquiesced. “I’ll give you a week,” he said. “If you can handle both, I’ll let you. Just don’t work yourself to the bone, alright?”

Kevin shook his head. “I won’t.” 

Truth be told, Kevin was already working himself to the bone, so what difference would a little extra weight on his workload really do? Besides, knowing Andrew was now on neither Gladstone nor Roberts was enough to get him through the day unbothered. 

And oh, how he reveled. 

Kevin had never been a particularly good sport, and he’d always been as sore a loser as he had a winner and it showed, it really, really showed. From the way he sneered to the taunting scoffs, it was written on his face in permanent ink.

_I won._

And Lord, did it feel good. 

“Roberts is low-hanging fruit anyway,” Andrew feigned indifference as Kevin grinned. “But if that’s the kind of client you want, by all means.”

“I know it must sting,” Kevin feigned compassion as Andrew glared. “But when you’re personally requested by a client, I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Kevin could get used to this.

\--- 

There were many things Kevin dreaded, and this exact situation was definitely one of them. 

He honestly hadn’t thought too much of it, when Arnold and Naba had shown up seemingly out of the blue, although Connor had seemed less surprised by the visit. He hadn’t thought much of anything, the trying faces, the indiscreet glances, the awkward silence that everyone seemed way too hesitant to break. He hadn’t thought they would sit him down on the couch, tell him _first of all_ how much they cared about him, and then gone on to explain why they knew Kevin better than himself, and that Kevin was doing everything wrong. 

He had seen it coming for a long time, sure, he just didn’t think it would be quite so literal as he’d imagined. 

“You’ve been so distant lately,” Arnold lamented.

“We just want to help,” Naba assured.

“I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone,” Connor promised. 

And then something – something nasty and spiteful – burst inside him. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he laughed, biting and harsh. “What is this, an intervention?”

His friends exchanged knowing glances that made Kevin feel smaller than ever before Naba turned back to him with determined eyes. “Like I said, we just want to help, Kevin.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed involuntarily, as did he click his tongue without really meaning to before answering. “I’m fine, _thanks_.” Oh, how bitter the taste. 

“Like hell you are,” Naba countered, while both Arnold’s and Connor’s eyes turned awkwardly to the floor. “Don’t be an idiot and just listen to us. We’re doing this _for you_ , for God’s sake.”

“ _For me?_ ” Kevin’s eyebrows raised, preparing for battle. “I haven’t asked you to do a single thing, so how the fuck is this for me?”

Naba retaliated with a bored stare, clearly sick of Kevin’s only defense strategy. “That’s what friends do, Kevin. They offer help when it’s clearly needed, requested or not.”

Kevin turned away, breaking their eye-contact because Naba’s were far too intrusive and Kevin felt as though they peered straight through his very tired, very frail facade. He took it as a personal loss, letting her win the imagined staring contest, but would save that self-loathing for another day. Right now he needed to focus on the matters at hand, the fact that no one understood how badly he wanted _nothing_ from anyone, no help, no pity, no love, if it so came to that. Fuck, he’d gone a long time without it before, who’s to say he couldn’t again. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Naba spoke again, her voice slightly softer than before. “And I know you _think_ you’re fine – hell, maybe you are – but that’s not going to stop us from caring, Kevin. It won’t stop us from worrying about you, and lately, you’ve given us more than enough reason to do that.”

If only Kevin could handle criticism better, then maybe this wouldn’t be so goddamned difficult. If only he could hear the genuine concern in his friends’ voices instead of the disapproval in their words, asking him to change a part of him he wasn’t even sure was capable to do so. If only there wouldn’t have been a myriad of voices in his head screaming for him to listen or not, to apologize or fight back, to stay or leave. If only he didn’t see his father’s face every time he blinked, then maybe, he wouldn’t be so conflicted. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he said after a while, his voice barely a whisper. 

“We’re just trying to help,” Arnold reassured, and Kevin met his plagued eyes with his own. “It’s okay to not be okay, and it’s okay to ask for help, too.”

“But I never asked,” Kevin said, yet again missing the point entirely, but there was only so much his brain could manage. “I don’t want help. I don’t need it.”

“You’re not sleeping,” Connor chimed in, gaining Kevin’s attention in the process. “And you barely talk to me anymore.”

“Me either,” Arnold agreed, and Kevin’s eyes shot back in his direction. “You never want to hang out and you don’t answer my calls.”

“You’re pulling away.” 

“You seem so on edge all the time.”

Kevin’s eyes kept switching between the two as they spat their worries in his face. Even if it wasn’t meant as berating, that’s all the information that made it to Kevin’s brain, and he hated it. 

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” Kevin finally snapped, and oh, did he mean it. “If you think I’m such a bad person that you can pinpoint every flaw, why don’t you just write me a fucking list? It would save us all some time because this is just ridiculous.” 

“We don’t think you’re a bad person, Kev,” Arnold frowned as he glanced awkwardly at the other two. 

“Clearly you do!” Kevin flew to his feet and was slightly taken aback by the sheer volume of his voice. “Or else you wouldn’t be here, forcing me to be someone I’m not.”

“Don’t yell,” Naba said, voice cool and stern. “We can hear you just fine. Sit back down.”

“Fuck off.”

Both Arnold and Connor stared, offended on Naba’s behalf since she only countered with the same bored look from before. “Sit. Down.” 

“This is my apartment, I’ll do what I want.”

"Well, then how about you take some goddamn responsibility?" Naba remained seated but raised her voice to match volumes. "How about you listen to our advice instead of - I don't know - getting drunk after I specifically asked you not to?"

"Oh, as if drinking is my biggest concern," Kevin laughed viciously. "Besides, you're not even a doctor, why should I listen to you?"

"It doesn't take a doctor to know that excessive drinking is unhealthy, Kevin."

"I'm not drinking excessively!" Kevin through his hands up in frustration. "And I'm only going out to keep up appearances at work, you wouldn't understand."

"I'm not disputing that. All I'm saying is it's bad for you," Naba said matter-of-factly. "And you clearly need that spelled out to get it through your head."

"Just shut up!" Kevin barked as he felt steam pouring from his ears. "All of you, just shut up and leave me the fuck alone."

Connor got on his feet then, hands raised in defense as he took a step toward Kevin, as if he was afraid Kevin would attack him. “Kevin, calm down, please,” he spoke carefully, reaching out slowly to touch his arm and Kevin resisted the urge to jerk away. “There’s no need to get angry, okay? Just, calm down.”

Kevin took a deep breath, surprised by how shaky and hitched it sounded in his throat and turned his eyes toward Connor’s. The blue had never seemed so devastated before, like the calmest of seas after the wildest of storms, an unknown death toll hiding in the waves. Kevin felt like drowning in them, he’d always heard it was a peaceful way to go after all. 

Reluctantly, he sat back down, this time with Connor by his side and it gave him a sense of security he couldn’t quite decipher as false or not, but for now, it worked. He calmed down, he breathed slowly, and he listened, at least as much as he could before his brain shut off and left him on autopilot again. Perhaps it was for the best. Kevin knew he’d eventually have to change, and if that was what Connor wanted, he’d go to any lengths to make him happy. 

He just wasn’t sure how, because change included things Kevin never wanted to face, and if he wasn’t able to do it, what point would there even be in trying? 

Once Arnold and Naba had left, the apartment felt eerily silent. Kevin hadn’t specifically agreed to anything they had suggested, but he’d listened, and it seemed that for the time being, they could settle for that. Naba still wanted him to see a doctor, she even left him a note of phone numbers that could get him the help he apparently needed, so he could make the decision on his own once he was ready. Of course, he’d accepted it but made no commitment whatsoever. 

Connor was sitting beside him still, tapping a finger rapidly against his leg as Kevin watched. Connor had never struck him as a nervous person, yet the state he displayed now felt considerably anxious. 

The thought made his stomach turn, as he remembered the things Connor had gone through in his early twenties. Coming out, being disowned, homelessness, and depression, and still, Kevin had the nerve to be so selfish that he made Connor _anxious_ , or at the very least uncomfortable. It felt like a dagger through his heart; hurting Connor was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 

He reached out, placing his hand carefully on top of Connor’s, earning his attention as he did so, and the eyes that met his own were the most beautiful he’d ever seen. But they were also glassy with tears, and Kevin couldn't help but think Connor would be way better off without him around.

“Please, don’t cry,” he whispered as he reached his other hand up to Connor’s face, wiping the unfallen tears from his skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“You say that a lot, you know.” Connor didn’t cry, he only tilted his head slightly to the side as he watched Kevin. “I’m just afraid it’ll lose its meaning someday.” 

Kevin shook his head. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he would never stop feeling sorry for the way he’s acted, the way he’s living, and the way he’s treated Connor. However bad he was at actually apologizing, he’d never stop trying. Not with Connor. 

“I promise it won’t,” he said, squeezing Connor’s hand just a bit tighter. “I’d never let it, not with you.”

“I miss you, Kevin,” Connor said then, surprising him with the sudden shift in tone as he moved closer on the couch. “I miss _this_ Kevin, the one that holds my hand and listens to me. I just want him back.”

Kevin felt a familiar vine wrap around his throat as he tried to say that _I’m still here_ , yet no words made it past the tip of his tongue. 

Connor kissed him softly instead, and it left a bittersweet taste on Kevin’s lips that nearly broke his heart into a thousand pieces. They didn’t kiss much anymore, Kevin never felt the moment was right and he knew it was his fault, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Whenever he’d wanted to, he’d been too scared to take the leap, even though he knew Connor was there for a reason, and that reason being love. Yet, Kevin felt bad with every touch, every kiss, every look he gave Connor, as if he was using him despite knowing Connor was there because he wanted to be, because he loved Kevin and was clearly ready to fight for him. Still, Kevin couldn't let go of the feeling that Connor was on the verge of surrendering, of giving up, and honestly, Kevin didn't blame him.

“Kiss me back, dammit,” Connor whispered against his lips when Kevin finally realized they were still locked with Connor’s. 

And he did, because he felt like time was slipping away and he was desperate to slow it down just enough to regain his footing. So, he kissed and savored, soft and slow or rough and urgent, neither seemed to know exactly what they wanted so they tried everything. Still, Kevin thought, nothing felt right. 

They hadn’t had sex for a while, either, and Kevin swore the last time they did, he’d seen tears in Connor’s eyes and he was too scared to ask why. Too frightened to hear that Connor was hurting or worse, that Connor felt nothing anymore, because though it seemed like Connor was the one keeping their relationship afloat, he was also the one acting as if they were drowning with only minutes to spare. 

So, then maybe, it was only fair that Kevin played along. After all, if he were to change, it would be for Connor, and that’s that.

\--- 

Nothing was fair, Kevin had realized. Nothing was fair and the world was turned against him, he was fighting a battle he’d lost weeks ago, and grasping at straws only lasted him so long. It didn’t help that the voices kept screaming in his head, telling him he deserved nothing but pain and misery while lulling him into a false sense of righteousness. Kevin Price didn’t ask for help, he should be able to fend for himself. 

Connor was angrier than usual, and for some reason, Kevin had returned the ire at a matching level because dumb as he was, a challenge was a challenge, and Kevin Price loved winning. 

Until winning felt like the greatest loss he’d ever known. 

Connor broke apart, and it was tragically beautiful in a way that made Kevin fill with piping hot shame, but also a hint of intrigue. Connor was a silent crier, and seeing tears fall from his eyes without making a single sound was far, far worse than loud sobs and ragged breathing.

“Why is it so hard-“ he whispered, tears clouding his eyes as he watched Kevin struggle to apologize. “Why is it so hard to leave you?”

And suddenly, the world caught aflame. 

“Connor,” Kevin tried, and his breath hitched in his throat as he processed the words. “Tell me you’re not breaking up with me.”

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, it wasn’t supposed to crash and burn like a million stars exploding in his living room. The air was pressing in his lungs, begging to be let out, but Kevin kept holding his breath as if the world would stop, or at least slow down somewhat, and then maybe, the fire would return to the spark it had once been. 

“Can we break up if people don’t even know we’re dating?” Connor asked, the smile on his face showing nothing but pain and sorrow. 

“I’m trying,” Kevin promised, as empty and hollow as it was, he promised, nonetheless. 

“I know you are,” Connor said, softer and gently as he inched closer, reaching out a hand that landed on Kevin’s arm and burned the skin beneath to a crisp. “But it’d be easier if you’d just let me help you.”

Kevin shook his head. “You don’t understand, it’s not the same for you.”

“Then help me understand, Kevin. I’m trying to if you’d only let me.”

And Kevin knew he should, but he didn’t know where to begin. Because really, it wasn’t the same. It was far, far different from anything Connor went through, far _easier_ than anything Connor went through and that felt cruel in and of itself, being so scared of something so harmless while Connor still battled memories of terror and torture. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he tried and realized that it didn’t suffice as an explanation, so he tried harder but couldn't seem to process the words before they fell off his tongue. “It was different for you and I’m sorry about that, but I’m okay like this, I really am. Why can’t we just stay like this?”

Connor took a step back, eyes hurt and brow furrowed as he watched every emotion Kevin was capable of feeling flash across his face. “Stay _like this_?” he asked, with an edge that could cut through diamonds. “Like what? Miserable and constantly fighting? I don’t want to live _like this_ , Kevin. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“No, that’s not-“

“I mean, what happens when you want to go back to Utah or visit your family? What happens when your colleagues ask about your life? What happens when we’re forty and unmarried because you can’t fucking accept that you’re in love with a man?”

Connor was practically shouting, and his eyes were glassy and unrelenting, still, Kevin’s mind decided to only focus on one part of what Connor had just said. “Married?”

Connor nearly rolled his eyes, clearly more exasperated now than hurt, and Kevin knew it was unfair to derail the conversation like that. It wasn’t the time nor the place, but hearing Connor say he could see them together at forty, despite it being in a very negative light, it made the smallest of sparks ignite in Kevin’s chest. 

“That’s all you got from that?” Connor spat. “Nice, Kevin. Real fucking nice.”

And it came out taunting, but Kevin meant every word. “You want to marry me?”

Connor only watched him, and for a second it felt as though he was considering the question. As though he could forgive and forget all the heartache, all the fights, and hollow promises. As though they might have a chance still, after all. 

“No,” Connor said instead, and the spark imploded and died in Kevin’s lungs. “I want a future with someone who wants one with me, too. Not one where we have to hide or pretend to be just friends.”

It was all so obvious, so very clear that Kevin thought it might have been painted on the walls, still. he missed every clue, every hint, and every indication that the solution was quite simply right there, all along. It wouldn’t take a miracle; it wouldn’t take something incredible. It would only take some effort and a change of heart, and Kevin couldn’t even give him that. 

“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Kevin,” Connor continued, his voice now a low and sober tone. “But clearly you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the angst, what a beautiful melody such pain can produce. 
> 
> I tried very hard not to make this chapter seem as rash as it felt, with Kevin suddenly snapping at everyone and everything, but then again, my writing is heavily influenced by my own characteristics as it makes it easier to convey emotions that way, and when I snap, I really do, so hopefully that comes across. I just wanted to illustrate Kevin's breaking point and what happens when he crosses it, and as it turns out, our boy gets real mad. 
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter, and don't worry, Kevin and Connor are very much endgame and we'll get there before you know it. Feel free to leave a comment or kudos, it always helps with motivation and it's nice to hear at least someone is still enjoying this as much as I do. 
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe, and as always, thank you for reading x


End file.
